The  Trowbridge  Novels 

By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDQE 

Eight  Volumes.     Cloth.     New  uniform  binding.    Price  $1.50  each. 

Neighbor  Jackwood.      New  Revised   Edition,   with   Autobio- 
graphical Chapter. 

"  It  sparkles  with  wit,  it  is  liquid  with  humor,  it  has  the  unmistakable 
tou-h  of  nature,  and  it  has  a  procession  of  characters  like  a  novel  ot  fecott ; 
indeed,  in  many  ways  it  recalls  that  great  master."  —  John  Jiurrougns. 

Neighbor's  Wives. 

"A  new  edition  of  one  of  the  most  successful  of  this  favorite  author  s 
books.  It  will  be  read  with  fresh  interest  by  many  who  have  welcomed  it 
in  earlier  editions,  and  to  those  who  now  give  it  their  first  reading  it  will 
yield  delightful  entertainment,  and  unfold  lessons  that  will  live  long  m  the 
memory."—  Gospel  Banner. 

Coupon  Bonds. 

"  'Coupon  Bonds'  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  best  stories  ever  published 
in  this  country.  It  is  a  most  happy  and  felicitous  stroke.  It  is  brim- 
ful of  the  very  best  quality  of  humor,  — the  humor  that  grows  naturally 
out  of  the  character  and  the  situation,  and  it  moves  along  briskly,  witnout 
any  urging  or  pushing  by  the  author.  It  is  full  of  incident,  full  of  charac- 
ter, full  of  novel  and  ludicrous  surprises  and  situations."  —  bcritmer  s 
Monthly. 

Cudjo's  Cave. 

"  This  is  one  of  Mr.  Trowbridge's  best  stories.  His  readers  are  accus- 
tomed to  plenty  of  lively  incidents  and  exciting  adventures,  and  in  this 
volume  the  supply  is  surely  abundant.  The  story  opens  with  the  struggle 
of  a  Quaker  schoolmaster  in  Tennessee  previous  to  the  opening  of  the  late 
war,  and  the  exciting  scenes  attendant  upon  the  opening  of  the  great 
struggle  between  the  North  and  South  are  portrayed  in  a  graphic  manner. 
1  Cudjo's  Cave '  is  a  book  to  make  a  favorable  impression."  —  Capital. 

Three  Scouts. 

This  story  is  a  companion  to  "  Cudjo's  Cave  "  and  "  The  Drummer  Boy," 
in  being  a  narrative  of  stormy  events  in  the  Civil  War,  when  the  army  of 
the  Cumberland,  under  Rosecrans,  and  the  Confederate  forces,  under 
Bragg,  were  battling  with  each  other  in  1862.  Yet  it  is  complete  in  itself  as 
a  story. 

The  Drummer  Boy.    Illustrated. 

The  author  of  this  book  is  so  famous  as  a  story -writer  that  another  ex- 
cellent one  is  only  what  all  his  readers  expect.  It  is  a  story  of  the  late  war, 
and  of  a  boy  who  went  into  the  army  as  a  drummer,  and  who,  from  the  good 
instructions  of  a  fond  and  noble  mother,  sought  to  impart  to  his  rude  and 
reckless  companions  some  of  the  good  of  his  own' character. 

Farnell's  Folly. 

All  the  sterling  qualities  which  have  placed  Mr.  Trowbridge  among 
the  foremost  of  American  novelists  are  to  be  found  in  this  new  romance. 
It  is  not  a  short  story  or  series  of  sketches  that  may  be  "  devoured  "  in  an 
hour,  but,  as  the  number  of  its  pages  testify,  a  full-blooded  romance,  alive 
with  incident,  and  overflowing  with  interest. 

Martin  Merrivale:    His  X  MARK. 

This  story  of  New  England  life  abounds  in  passages  of  rare  humor  and 
pathos.  Not  even  in  "Coupon  Bonds"  nor  in  "Neighbor  Jackwood"  has 
Trowbr'dge  created  characters  better  fitted  to  give  him  enduring  fame. 
Nc  one  can  read  the  story  without  seeing  that  the  author  has  put  his  whole 
soul  in  it. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price. 
Our  Complete  Catalogue  sent  free. 

LEE    &  SHEPARD,    Publishers,    Boston 


CUDJO'S    CAVE 


J.    T.    TROWBRIDGE 


BOSTON    1904 
LEE     AND     SHEPARD     PUBLISHERS 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  i8«3,  07 

J.    T.    TROWBRIDGE, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Mn 


COPYRIGHT,  1891,  BY  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE. 


£81 


CONTENTS. 


PA3S 

I.  THE  SCHOOLMASTER  IN  TROUBLE, 5 

II.     PENN  AND   THE    RUFFIANS, ,      tf 

III.  THE  SECRET  CELLAR, so 

IV.  THE  SEARCH  FOR  THE  MISSING, 39 

V.    CARL  AND  HIS  FRIENDS, 47 

VI.    A  STRANGE  COAT  FOR  A  QUAKER, 57 

VII.    THE  Two  GUESTS, 02 

VIII.    THE  ROVER, 09 

IX.    TOBY'S  PATIENT  HAS  A  CALLER, 70 

X.    THE  WIDOW'S  GREEN  CHEST, 86 

XI.    SOUTHERN  HOSPITALITY, 91 

XII.    CHIVALROUS   PROCEEDINGS, 102 

XIII.  THE  OLD  CLERGYMAN'S  NIGHTGOWN  HAS  AN  ADVEN- 

TURE,   Ill 

XIV.  A  MAN'S  STORY, 122 

XV.    AN  ANTI-SLAVERY  DOCUMENT  ON  BLACK  PARCHMENT,  .  IK 

XVI.  IN  THE  CAVE  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN, 139 

XVII.  PENN'S  TOOT  KNOCKS  DOWN  A  MUSKET, 147 

XVIII.  CONDEMNED  TO  DEATH, 155 

XIX.  THE  ESCAPE, l<52 

XX.  UNDER  THE  BRIDGE, 172 

XXI.  THE  RETURN  INTO  DANGER l"fl 

(3) 


4  CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

XXII.    STACKBRIDGE'S  COAT  AND  HAT  GET  ARRESTED,  ...  183 

XXIII.  THE  FLIGHT  OF  THE  PRISONERS, 1% 

XXIV.  THE  DEAD  REBEL'S  MUSKET 209 

XXV.    BLACK  AND  WHITE, 217 

XXVI.  WHY  AUGUSTUS  DID  NOT  PROPOSE, 230 

XXVII.  THE  MEN  WITH  THE  DARK  LANTERN,  .  s 238 

XXVIII.  BEAUTY  AND  THE  BEAST, 244 

XXIX.  IN  THE  BURNING  WOODS, 256 

XXX.  REFUGE, 276 

XXXI.  LYSANDER  TAKES  POSSESSION, 298 

XXXII.  TOBY'S  REWARD, 310 

XXXIII.  CARL  MAKES  AN  ENGAGEMENT, 319 

XXXIV.  CAPTAIN  LYSANDER'S  JOKE, 331 

XXXV.  THE  MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION, 347 

XXXVI.    CARL  FINDS  A  GEOLOGICAL  SPECIMEN, 365 

XXXVII.    CARL  KEEPS  HIS  ENGAGEMENT, 372 

XXXVIII.    LOVE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS, 383 

XXXIX.    A  COUNCIL  OF  WAR, 393 

XL.    THE  WONDERS  OF  THE  CAVE, 403 

XLI.    PROMETHEUS  BOUND, 419 

XLTI.    PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND, 431 

XLIII.    THE   COMBAT, 441 

XLIV.    How  AUGUSTUS  FINALLY  PROPOSED, 456 

XLV.    MASTER  AND  SLAVE  CHANGE  PLACES, 468 

XLVI.    THE  TRAITOR, 479 

XLVII.    BREAD  ON  THE  WATERS, 490 

XLVTII.    CONCLUSION, 496 

L'ENVOY 501 


CUDJO'S    CAVE. 


THE  SCHOOLMASTER   IN  TROUBLE. 


ARL  crept  stealthily  up  the  bank,  and, 
peering  through  the  window,  saw  the  mas- 
ter writing  at  his  desk. 
In  his  neat  Quaker  garb,  his  slender  form  bent  over 
his  task,  his  calm  young  face  dimly  seen  in  profile, 
there  he  sat.  The  room  was  growing  dark;  the  glow 
of  a  March  sunset  was  fading  fast  from  the  paper  on 
whicn  the  swift  pen  traced  these  words :  — 

"  Tennessee  is  getting  too  hot  for  me.  My  school  is 
nearly  broken  up,  and  my  farther  stay  here  is  becoming 
not  only  useless,  but  dangerous.  There  are  many  loyal 
men  in  the  neighborhood,  but  they  are  overawed  by  the 
reckless  violence  of  the  secessionists.  Mobs  sanctioned 
by  self-styled  vigilance  committees  override  all  law  and 
1  * 


6       THE  SCHOOLMASTER  IN  TROUBLE. 

order.  As  I  write,  I  can  hear  the  yells  of  a  drunken 
rabble  before  my  school-house  door.  I  am  an  especial 
object  of  hatred  to  them  on  account  of  my  northern 
birth  and  principles.  They  have  warned  me  to  leave  the 
state,  they  have  threatened  me  with  southern  vengeance, 
but  thus  far  I  have  escaped  injury.  How  long  this  reign 
of  terror  is  to  last,  or  what  is  to  be  the  end " 

A  rap  on  the  window  drew  the  writer's  attention,  and, 
looking  up,  he  saw,  against  the  twilight  sky,  the  broad 
German  face  of  the  boy  Carl  darkening  the  pane.  He 
stepped  to  raise  the  sash. 

"  What  is  it,  Carl  ?  " 

The  lad  glanced  quickly  around,  first  over  one  shoulder, 
then  the  other,  and  said,  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  — 

"  Shpeak  wery  low  !  " 

"  Was  it  you  that  rapped  before  ?  " 

"  I  have  rapped  tree  times,  not  loud,  pecause  I  vas 
afraid  the  men  would  hear." 

"  What  men  are  they  :  '' 

"  The  Wigilance  Committee's  men  !  They  have  some 
tar  in  a  kettle.  They  have  made  a  fire  unter  it,  and  I 
hear  some  of  'em  say,  '  Run,  boys,  and  pring  some 
fedders.' " 

"  Tar  and  feathers ! "  The  young  man  grew  pale. 
••  They  have  threatened  it,  but  they  will  not  dare !  "' 

"  They  vill  dare  do  anything ;  but  you  shall  prewent 
'em !  See  vat  I  have  prought  you  !  "  Carl  opened  his 
jacket,  and  showed  the  handle  of  a  revolver.  "  Stack- 
ridge  sent  it." 


THE  SCHOOLMASTER  IX  TROUBLE.       7 

"  Hide  it !  hide  it !  "  said  the  master,  quickly.  "  He 
offered  it  to  me  himself.  I  told  him  I  could  not  take  it." 

"  He  said,  may  be  when  you  smell  tar  and  see  fed- 
ders,  you  vill  change  your  mind,"  answered  Carl. 

The  schoolmaster  smiled.  The  pallor  of  fear  which 
had  surprised  him  for  an  instant,  had  vanished. 

"  I  believe  in  a  different  creed  from  Mr.  Stackridge's, 
honest  man  as  he  is.  I  shall  not  resist  evil,  but  overcome 
evil  with  good,  if  I  can ;  if  I  cannot,  I  shall  suffer  it." 

"  You  show  you  vili  shoot  some  of  'em,  and  they  vill 
let  you  go,"  said  Carl,  not  understanding  the  nobler  doc- 
trine. "  Shooting  vill  do  some  of  them  willains  some 
good  !  "  his  placid  blue  eyes  kindling,  as  if  he  would  like 
to  do  a  little  of  the  shooting.  "  You  take  it  r  " 

"  No,"  said  the  young  man,  firmly.  "  Such  weapons 
are  not  for  me." 

"  Wery  veil ! "  Carl  buttoned  his  jacket  over  the 
revolver.  •'  Then  you  come  mit  me,  if  you  please.  Get 
out  of  the  vinder  and  run.  That  is  pest,  I  suppose." 

"  No,  no,  my  lad.  I  may  as  well  meet  these  men  first 
as  last." 

"  Then  I  vill  go  and  pring  help  !  "  suddenly  exclaimed 
the  boy ;  and  away  he  scampered  across  the  fields,  leaving 
the  young  man  alone  in  the  darkening  school-room. 

It  was  not  a  very  pleasant  situation  to  be  in,  you 
may  well  believe.  As  he  closed  the  sash,  a  faint  odor 
of  tar  was  wafted  in  on  the  evening  breeze.  The  voices 
of  the  ruffians  at  the  door  grew  louder  and  more  menacing. 


8       THE  SCHOOLMASTER  IN  TROUBLE. 

He  knew  they  were  only  waiting  for  the  tar  to  heat,  for 
the  shadows  of  night  to  thicken,  and  for  him  to  make 
his  appearance.  He  returned  to  his  desk,  but  it  was 
flow  too  dark  to  write.  He  could  barely  see  to  sign  his 
name  and  superscribe  the  envelope.  This  done,  he  but- 
toned his  straight-fitting  brown  coat,  put  on  his  modest 
hat,  and  stood  pondering  in  his  mind  what  he  should  do. 

A  young  man  scarcely  twenty  years  old,  reared  in  the 
quiet  atmosphere  of  a  community  of  Friends,  and  as  un- 
accustomed, hitherto,  to  scenes  of  strife  and  violence  as 
the  most  innocent  child, — such  was  Penn  Hapgood,  teacher 
of  the  "  Academy  "  (as  the  school  was  proudly  named) 
in  Curry ville.  This  was  the  first  great  trial  of  his  faith 
and  courage.  He  had  not  taken  Carl's  advice,  and  run, 
because  he  did  not  believe  that  he  could  escape  the  dan- 
ger in  that  way.  And  as  for  fighting,  that  was  not  in  his 
heart  any  more  than  it  was  in  his  creed.  But  to  say  he 
did  not  dread  to  meet  his  foes  at  the  door,  that  he  felt  no 
fear,  would  be  speaking  falsely.  He  was  afraid.  His 
entire  nature,  delicate  body  and  still  more  delicate  soul, 
shrank  from  the  ordeal.  He  went  to  the  outer  door,  and 
laid  his  hand  on  the  bolt,  but  could  not,  for  a  long  time, 
summon  resolution  to  open  it. 

As  he  hesitated,  there  came  a  loud  thump  on  one  of 
the  panels  which  nearly  crushed  it  in,  and  filled  the  hol- 
low building  with  ominous  echoes. 

"  Make  ready  in  thar,  you  hound  of  a  abolitionist ! " 
shouted  a  brutal  voice  ;  "  we're  about  ready  fur  ye  !  " 


THE  SCHOOLMASTER  IN  TROUBLE.       9 

Penn's  hand  drew  back.  I  dare  say  it  trembled,  1 
dare  say  his  face  turned  white  again,  as  he  felt  the  danger 
so  near.  How  could  he  confront,  with  his  sensitive  spirit, 
those  merciless,  coarse  men? 

"  I'll  wait  a  little,"  he  thought  within  himself.  "  Per- 
haps Carl  will  bring  help." 

There  were  good  sturdy  Unionists  in  the  place,  men 
who,  unlike  the  Pennsylvania  schoolmaster,  believed  in 
opposing  evil  with  evil,  force  by  force.  Only  last  night, 
one  of  them  entered  this  very  school-room,  bolted  the  door 
carefully,  and  sat  down  to  unfold  to  the  young  master 
a  scheme  for  resisting  the  plans  of  the  secessionists.  It 
was  a  league  for  circumventing  treason ;  for  keeping 
Tennessee  in  the  Union  ;  for  preserving  their  homes  and 
families  from  the  horrors  of  the  impending  civil  war. 
The  conspirators  had  arms  concealed  ;  they  met  in  secret 
places ;  they  were  watching  for  the  hour  to  strike. 
Would  the  schoolmaster  join  them  ?  Strange  to  say,  they 
believed  in  him  as  a  man  who  had  abilities  as  a  leader, 
"  an  undeveloped  fighting  man  "  —  he,  Penn  Hapgood, 
the  Quaker  !  Penn  smiled,  as  he  declined  the  farmer's 
offer  of  a  commission  in  the  secret  militia,  and  refused  to 
accept  the  weapon  of  self-defence  which  the  same  earnest 
Unionist  had  proffered  him  again,  through  Carl,  the  Ger- 
man boy,  this  night. 

Penn  thought  of  these  men  now,  and  hoped  that  Carl 
would  haste  and  bring  them  to  the  rescue.  Then  imme- 
diately he  blushed  at  his  own  cowardly  inconsistency; 


10      THE  SCHOOLMASTER  IN  TROUBLE. 

for  something  in  his  heart  said  that  he  ought  not  to 
wish  others  to  do  for  him  what  he  had  conscientious 
scruples  against  doing  for  himself. 

"  I'll  go  out ! "  he  said,  sternly,  to  his  trembling 
heart. 

But  he  would  first  make  a  reconnoissance  through  the 
keyhole.  He  looked,  and  saw  one  ruffian  stirring  the 
fire  under  the  tar  kettle,  another  displaying  a  rope,  and 
two  others  alternately  drinking  from  a  bottle.  He  started 
back,  as  the  thundering  on  the  panel  was  repeated,  and 
the  same  voice  roared  out,  "  You  kin  be  takin'  off 
them  clo'es  of  yourn ;  the  tar  is  about  het ! " 

"  I'll  wait  a  few  minutes  longer  for  Carl !  "  said  Penn 
to  himself,  with  a  long  breath. 

Unfortunately,  Carl  was  not  just  now  in  a  situation 
to  render  much  assistance. 

Although  he  had  arrived  unseen  at  the  window,  he  did 
not  retire  undiscovered.  He  had  run  but  a  short  dis- 
tance when  a  gruff  voice  ordered  him  to  stop.  He  had 
a  way,  however,  of  misunderstanding  English  when  he 
chose,  and  interpreted  the  command  to  mean,  run  faster. 
Receiving  it  in  that  sense,  he  obeyed.  Somebody  behind 
him  began  to  run  too.  In  short,  it  was  a  chase  ;  and 
Carl,  glancing  backwards,  saw  long-legged  Silas  Ropes, 
one  of  the  ringleaders  of  the  mob,  taking  appalling 
strides  after  him,  across  the  open  field. 

There  were  some  woods  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
away,  and  Carl  made  for  them,  trusting  to  their  shelter 


THE  SCHOOLMASTER  IN  TROUBLE.      11 

And  the  shades  of  night  to  favor  his  escape.  He  was 
fifteen  years  old,  strong,  and  an  excellent  runner.  He 
did  not  again  look  behind  to  see  if  Silas  was  gaining  on 
him,  but  attended  strictly  to  his  own  business,  which 
was,  to  get  into  the  thickets  as  soon  as  possible.  His 
success  seemed  almost  certain  ;  a  few  rods  more,  and  the 
undergrowth  would  be  reached  ;  and  he  was  congratulat- 
ing himself  on  having  thus  led  away  from  the  school- 
master one  of  his  most  desperate  enemies,  when  he  rushed 
suddenly  almost  into  the  arms  of  two  men,  —  or  rather, 
into  a  feather-bed,  which  they  were  fetching  by  the  corner 
of  the  wood  lot. 

"  Ketch  that  Dutchman  !  "  roared  Silas.  And  they 
"  ketched  "  him. 

"  What's  the  Dutchman  done  r  "  said  one  of  the  men, 
throwing  himself  lazily  on  the  feather-bed,  while  his  com- 
panion held  Carl  for  his  pursuer. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Carl,  opening  his  eyes  with 
placid  wonder.  "  I  tought  he  vas  van  ting  to  run  a 
race  mit  me." 

"  A  race,  you  fool ! "  said  Silas,  seizing  and  shaking 
him.  "  Didn't  you  hear  me  tell  ye  to  stop  r " 

"  Did  you  say  shtop  f "  asked  Carl,  with  a  broad 
smile.  "  It  ish  wery  queer  !  Ven  it  sounded  so  much 
as  if  you  said  shtep !  so  I  shtepped  just  as  fast  as  I 
could." 

"  What  was  you  thar  at  the  winder  fur  ? " 

"  Vot  vinder  ? "    said  Carl 


12  THE   SCHOOLMASTER   I  If    TROUBLE. 

"  Of  the  Academy,"  said  Silas. 

"  O !  to  pe  sure  !  I  vas  there,"  said  Carl.  "  Pe- 
cause  I  left  my  books  in  there  last  week,  and  I  vas 
going  to  get  'em.  But  I  saw  somebody  in  the  house, 
and  I  vas  afraid." 

"  Wasn't  it  the  schoolmaster  ? " 

"  I  shouldn't  be  wery  much  surprised  if  it  vas  the 
schoolmaster,"  said  Carl,  with  blooming  simplicity. 

"  You  lying  rascal !  what  did  you  say  to  him  through 
the  winder  ?  " 

Carl  looked  all  around  with  an  expression  of  mild 
wonder,  as  if  expecting  somebody  else  to  answer. 

"Why  don't  you  speak?"  And  Silas  gave  his  arm 
a  fierce  wrench. 

"  Vat  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  said,  you  lying  rascal ! " 

"  That  is  not  my  name,"  said  Carl,  "  and  I  tought 
you  vas  shpeaking  to  somebody  else.  I  totight  you  vas 
conwersing  mit  this  man,"  pointing  at  the  fellow  on 
the  bed. 

"  Dan  Pepperill ! "  said  Silas,  turning  angrily  on  the 
recumbent  figure,  "  what  are  you  stretching  your  lazy 
bones  thar  fur  ?  We're  waiting  fur  them  feathers,  and 
you'll  git  a  coat  yourself,  if  you  don't  show  a  little 
more  of  the  sperrit  of  a  gentleman  !  You  don't  act  as 
if  your  heart  was  in  this  yer  act  of  dooty  we're  per- 
formin',  any  more'n  as  if  you  was  a  northern  mudsill 
yourself!  " 


THE  SCHOOLMASTER  IN  TROUBLE.      13 

"  Wai,  the  truth  is,"  said  Dan  Pepperill,  reluctantly 
getting  up  from  the  bed,  and  preparing  to  shoulder  it, 
"  the  schoolmaster  has  allus  treated  me  well,  and 
though  I  hate  his  principles, " 

"  You  don't  hate  his  principles,  neither !  You're 
more'n  half  a  abolitionist  yourself!  And  I  swear  to 
gosh,"  said  Silas,  "  if  you  don't  do  your  part 
now " 

"  I  will !  I'm  a-going  to  !  "  said  Dan,  with  some- 
thing like  a  groan.  "  Though,  as  I  said,  he  has  allus 
used  me  well " 

"  Shet  up  !  "  Silas  administered  a  kick,  which  Dan 
adroitly  caught  in  the  bed.  Mr.  Ropes  got  his  foot 
embarrassed  in  the  feathers,  lost  his  balance,  and  fell. 
Dan,  either  by  mistake  or  design,  fell  also,  tumbling 
the  bed  in  a  smothering  mass  over  the  screaming 
mouth  and  coarse  red  nose  of  the  prostrate  Silas. 

The  third  man.  who  was  guarding  Carl,  began  to 
laugh.  Carl  laughed  too,  as  if  it  was  the  greatest  joke 
in  the  world  ;  to  enhance  the  fun  of  which,  he  gave 
his  man  a  sudden  push  forwards,  -tripped  him  as  he  went, 
and  so  flung  him  headlong  upon  the  struggling  heap. 
This  pleasant  feat  accomplished,  he  turned  to  run ;  but 
changed  his  mind  almost  instantly ;  and,  instead  of 
plunging  into  the  undergrowth,  threw  himself  upon  the 
accumulating  pile. 

There  he  scrambled,  and  kicked,  with  his  heels  in 
the  air,  and  rolled  over  the  topmost  man,  who  rolled 
2 


14  THE   SCHOOLMAS1ER    IN    TROUBLE. 

over  Mr.  Pepperill,  who  rolled  over  the  feather-bed, 
which  rolled  again  over  Mr.  Ropes,  in  a  most  lively 
and  edifying  manner. 

At  this  interesting  juncture  Carl's  reason  for  changing 
his  mind  and  remaining,  became  manifest.  Two  more 
of  the  chivalry  from  the  tar  kettle  came  rushing  to  the 
spot,  and  would  speedily  have  seized  him  had  he  at- 
tempted to  get  off.  So  he  staid,  thinking  he  might 
be  helping  the  master  in  this  way  as  well  as  any  other. 

And  now  the  miscellaneous  heap  of  legs  and  feathers 
began  to  resolve  itself  into  its  original  elements.  First 
Carl  was  .pulled  off  by  one  of  the  new  comers  ;  then 
Dan  and  the  man  Carl  had  sent  to  comfort  him  fell  to 
blows,  clinched  each  other,  and  rolled  upon  the  earth  ; 
and  lastly,  Mr.  Silas  Ropes  arose,  choked  with  passion 
and  feathers,  from  under  the  rent  and  bursting  bed. 
The  two  squabbling  men  were  also  quickly  on  their 
fert,  Mr.  Pepperill  proving  too  much  for  his  antagonist. 

*'  What  did  you  pitch  into  me  fur  ?  "  demanded  Silas, 
threatening  his  friend  Dan. 

"  What  did  Gad  pitch  into  me  fur  ?  "  said  the  irate 
Dan,  shaking  his  fist  at  Gad. 

"  What  did  you  push  and  jump  on  to  me  fur  ? " 
said  Gad,  clutching  Carl,  who  was  still  laughing. 

Thus  the  wrath  of  the  whole  party  was  turned  against 
the  boy. 

"  Pless  me ! "  said  he,  staring  innocently,  "  I  tou^ht 
it  vas  ail  for  shport ! " 


THE  SCHOOLMASTER  IN  TROUBLE.      15 

The  furious  Mr.  Ropes  was  about  to  convince  him, 
by  some  violent  act,  of  his  mistake,  when  cries  from 
the  direction  of  the  school-house  called  his  attention. 

"  See  what's  there,  boys ! "  said  Silas. 

"  Durn  me,"  said  Mr.  Pepperill,  looking  across  the 
field  as  he  brushed  the  feathers  from  his  clothes,  "  if 
it  ain't  the  master  himself!" 

In  fact,  Penn  had  by  this  time  summoned  courage 
to  slip  back  the  bolt,  throw  open  the  school-house  door, 
and  come  out. 

The  gentlemen  who  were  heating  the  tar  and  drink- 
ing from  the  bottle  were  taken  by  surprise.  They  had 
not  expected  that  the  fellow  would  come  out  at  all, 
but  wait  to  be  dragged  out.  Their  natural  conclusion 
was,  that  he  was  armed ;  for  he  appeared  with  as  calm 
and  determined  a  front  as  if  he  had  been  perfectly 
safe  from  injury  himself,  while  it  was  in  his  power  to 
do  them  some  fatal  mischief.  They  could  not  understand 
how  the  mere  consciousness  of  his  own  uprightness, 
and  a  sense  of  reliance  on  the  arm  of  eternal  justice, 
could  inspire  a  man  with  courage  to  face  so  many. 

"  My  friends,"  said  Penn,  as  they  beset  him  with 
threats  and  blasphemy,  "  I  have  never  injured  one  of 
you,  and  you  will  not  harm  me." 

And  as  if  some  deity  held  an  invisible  shield  above 
him,  he  passed  by ;  and  they,  in  their  astonishment, 
durst  not  even  lay  their  hands  upon  him. 

"  I've    hearn    tell    he    was    a    Quaker,    and    wouldn't 


16      THE  SCHOOLMASTER  IN  TROUBLE. 

fight,"  muttered  one  ;  "  but  I  see  a  revolver  under  hi* 
coat !  " 

"  Where's  Sile  ?  Where's  Sile  Ropes  ?  "  cried  others, 
who,  though  themselves  unwilling  to  assume  the  re- 
sponsibility of  seizing  the  young  master,  would  have 
been  glad  to  see  Silas  attempt  it. 

Great  was  the  joy  of  Carl  when  he  saw  Mr.  Hapgood 
walking  through  the  guard  of  ruffians  untouched.  But, 
a  moment  after,  he  uttered  an  involuntary  groan  of 
despair.  It  was  Penn's  custom  to  cross  the  fields  in 
going  from  the  Academy  to  the  house  where  he  bcarde^d, 
and  his  path  wound  by  the  edge  of  the  woods,  where 
Silas  and  his  accomplices  were  at  this  moment  gather- 
ing  up  the  spilt  feathers. 

"  All  right ! "  said  Mr.  Ropes,  crouching  down  in 
order  to  remain  concealed  from  Penn's  view.  "  This 
is  as  comf'  table  a  place  to  do  our  dooty  by  him  as 
any  to  be  found.  Keep  dark,  boys,  and  let  him  come  ! " 


PENN  AND    THE   RUFFIANS.  17 


II. 


PENN  AND    THE  EUFFIANS. 


ENN    traversed    the    field,  followed   by  the 
gang    from    the    school-house.      As    he  ap- 
proached   the    woods,   Silas    and    his    friends 
rose  up  before  him.     He  was  thus  surrounded. 

"  Thought  you'd  come  and  meet  us  half  way,  did 
ye  ?  "  said  Mr.  Ropes,  striding  across  his  path.  "  Very 
accommodating  in  you,  to  be  shore  !  "  And  he  laughed 
a  brutal  laugh,  which  was  echoed  by  all  his  friends 
except  Dan. 

"  I  have  not  come  to  meet  you,"  replied  Penn, 
"but  I  am  going  about  my  own  private  business,  and 
wish  to  pass  on." 

"  Wai,  you  can't  pass  on  till  we've  settled  a  small 
account  with  you  that's  been  standing  a  little  too 
long  a'ready.  Bring  that  tar,  some  on  ye !  Come, 
Pepperill !  show  your  sperrit !  " 

This    Pepperill  was    a    ragged,    lank,    starved-looking 
man,  whose    appearance  was    on  this  occasion   rendered 
2* 


le  PENN  AND    THE   RUFFIANS. 

ludicrous  by  the  feathers  sticking  all  over  him,  and  by 
an  expression  of  dejection  which  would  draw  down  the 
comers  of  his  miserable  mouth  and  roll  up  his  piteous 
eyes,  notwithstanding  his  efforts  to  appear,  what  Silas 
termed,  "  sperrited." 

"  You,  too,  among  my  enemies,  Daniel ! "  said  Penn, 
reproachfully. 

It  was  a  look  of  grief,  not  of  anger,  which  he  turned 
on  the  wretched  man.  Poor  Pepperill  could  not  stand  it. 

"  I  own,  I  own,"  he  stammered  forth,  a  picture  of 
mingled  fear  and  contrition,  "  you've  allus  used  me 
well,  Mr.  Hapgood,  —  but,"  he  hastened  to  add,  with  a 
scared  glance  at  Silas,  "  I  hate  your  principles ! " 

"  Look  here,  Dan  Pepperill ! "  remarked  Mr.  Ropes, 
with  grim  significance,  "  you  better  shet  your  yaup, 
and  be  a  bringin'  that  ar  kittle !  " 

Dan  groaned,  and  departed.  Penn  smiled  bitterly. 
"  I  have  always  used  him  well ;  and  this  is  the  return 
I  get !  "  He  thought  of  another  evening,  but  little  more 
than  a  week  since,  when,  passing  by  this  very  path,  he 
heard  a  deeper  groan  than  that  which  the  wretch  had 
just  uttered.  He  turned  aside  into  the  edge  of  the 
woods,  and  there  beheld  an  object  to  excite  at  once  his 
laughter  and  compassion.  What  he  saw  was  this. 

Dan  Pepperill,  astride  a  rail ;  his  hands  tied  together 
above  it,  and  his  feet  similarly  bound  beneath.  The 
rail  had  been  taken  from  a  fence  a  mile  away,  and  he 
had  been  carried  all  that  distance  on  the  shoulders  of 


PENN  AND    THE   RUFFIANS.  19 

some  of  these  very  men.  They  had  taken  turns  with 
him,  and  when,  tired  at  last,  had  placed  the  rail  in  the 
crotches  of  two  convenient  saplings,  and  there  left  him. 
The  crotch  in  front  was  considerably  higher  than  that 
behind,  which  circumstance  gave  him  the  appearance 
of  clinging  to  the  back  of  an  animal  in  the  act  of  rear- 
ing frightfully,  and  exposed  a  delicate  part  of  his  ap- 
parel that  had  been  sadly  rent  by  contact  with  splinters. 
And  there  the  wretch  was  clinging  and  groaning  when 
Penn  came  up. 

"  For  the  love  of  the  Lord !  "  said  Dan,  "  take  me 
down  !  " 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter  ?    How  came  you  here  ?  " 

"  I'm  a  dead  man ;  that's  the  matter !  I've  been 
wipped  to  death,  and  then  rode  on  a  rail ;  that's  the 
way  I  come  here  !  " 

"  Whipped !  what  for  ? "  said  Penn,  losing  no  time 
in  cutting  the  sufferer's  bonds. 

"  Ye  see,"  said  Dan,  when  taken  down  and  laid 
upon  the  ground,  "  the  patrolmen  found  Combs' s  boy 
Pete  out  t'other  night  without  a  pass,  and  took  him 
and  tied  him  to  a  tree,  and  licked  him." 

The  "  boy  Pete  "  was  a  negro  man  upwards  of  fifty 
years  old,  owned  by  the  said  Combs. 

"  Wai,  ye  see,  jest  cause  I  found  him,  and  took  him 
home  with  me,  and  washed  his  back  fur  him,  and  bound 
cotton  on  to  it,  and  kep'  him  over  night,  and  gin  him 
a  good  breakfast,  and  a  drink  o'  suthin'  strong  in  the 


20  PENN  AND    THE  EUFFIANS. 

morning,  and  then  went  home  with  him,  and  talked 
with  his  master  so'st  he  wouldn't  git  another  licking, 
—  just  for  that,  Sile  Ropes  and  his  gang  took  me  and 
served  me  wus'n  ever  they  served  him ! "  And  the 
broken-spirited  man  cried  like  a  child  at  the  recollec- 
tion of  his  injuries. 

He  was  one  of  the  "white  trash"  of  the  south, 
whom  even  the  negroes  belonging  to  good  families  look 
down  upon ;  a  weak,  degraded,  kind-hearted  man,  whose 
offence  was  not  simply  that  he  had  shown  mercy  to 
the  "  boy  Pete,"  after  his  flogging,  but  that  he  asso- 
ciated on  familiar  terms  with  such  negroes  as  were  not 
too  proud  to  cultivate  his  acquaintance,  and  secretly  sold 
them  whiskey.  After  repeated  warnings,  he  had  been 
flogged,  and  treated  to  a  ride  on  a  three-cornered  rail,  and 
»iung  up  to  reflect  upon  his  ungentlemanly  conduct  and 
•vts  sad  consequences. 

At  sight  of  him,  Penn,  who  knew  nothing  of  his 
selling  whiskey  to  the  blacks,  or  of  any  other  offence 
against  the  laws  or  prejudices  of  the  community,  than 
that  of  befriending  a  beaten  and  bleeding  slave,  felt 
his  indignation  roused  and  his  sympathies  excited. 

"It's  a  dreadful  state  of  society  in  which  such  out- 
rages are  tolerated  ! "  he  exclaimed. 

"  /  say,  dreadful !  "  sobbed  Mr.  Pepperill. 

"  The  good  Samaritan  himself  would  be  in  danger 
of  a  beating  here !  "  said  Penn. 

"  I  don't  know  what  good  smart  'un  you  mean,"  re- 


PENN  AND    THE   RUFFIANS.  21 

plied  the  weeping  Dan,  whose  knowledge  of  Scripture 
was  extremely  limited,  "  but  I  bet  he'd  git  some,  ef  he 
didn't  keep  his  eyes  peeled ! "  And  he  wiped  his  nose 
with  his  sleeve. 

Penn  smiled  at  the  man's  ignorance,  and  said,  as  he 
lifted  him  up,  — 

"  Friend  Daniel,  do  you  know  that  it  is  partly  your 
own  fault  that  this  deplorable  state  of  things  exists  ? " 

"  How's  it  my  fault,  I'd  like  to  know  ? "  whimpered 
Daniel. 

"Come,  I'll  help  thee  home,  and  tell  thee  what  I 
mean,  by  the  way,"  said  Penn,  using  the  idiom  of  his 
sect,  into  which  familiar  manner  of  speech  he  naturally 
fell  when  talking  confidentially  with  any  one. 

"  I  am  stiff  as  any  old  spavined  hoss  ! "  whined  the 
poor  fellow,  straightening  his  legs,  and  attempting  to 
walk. 

Penn  helped  him  home  as  he  promised,  and  com- 
forted him,  and  said  to  him  many  things,  which  he 
little  supposed  were  destined  to  be  brought  against 
him  so  soon,  and  by  this  very  Daniel  Pepperill. 

This  was  the  way  of  it.  When  it  was  known  that 
Penn  had  befriended  the  friend  of  the  blacks,  Silas 
Ropes  paid  Dan  a  second  visit,  and  by  threats  of  ven- 
geance, on  the  one  hand,  and  promises  of  forgiveness 
and  treatment  "  like  a  gentleman,"  on  the  other,  ex- 
torted from  him  a  confession  of  all  Penn  had  said  and 
done. 


22  PENN  AND    THE   RUFFIANS. 

"  Now,  Dan,"  said  Mr.  Ropes,  patronizingly,  "  Til 
tell  ye  what  you  do.  You  jine  with  us,  and  show 
yourself  a  man  of  sperrit,  a  payin'  off  this  yer  aboli- 
tionist for  his  outrageous  interference  in  our  affairs." 

"  Sile,"  interrupted  Dan,  earnestly,  "  what  'ge  mean 
I'm  to  do  ?  Turn  agin'  him  ?  " 

"  Exactly,"  replied  Mr.  Ropes. 

"  Sile,"  said  Dan,  excitedly,  "  I  be  durned  if  I  do  !  " 

"  Then,  I  swear  to  gosh  !  "  said  Sile,  spitting  a  great 
stream  of  tobacco  juice  across  Mrs.  PepperilTs  not 
very  clean  floor,  "  you'll  have  a  dose  yourself  before 
another  sun,  which  like  as  not  '11  be  your  last !  " 

This  terrible  menace  produced  its  desired  effect ; 
and  the  unwilling  Dan  was  here,  this  night,  one  of 
Penn's  persecutors,  in  consequence. 

It  was  not  enough  that  he  had  shown  his  "  sperrit " 
by  fetching  the  victim's  own  bed  from  his  boarding- 
house,  telling  his  landlady,  the  worthy  Mrs.  Sprowl, 
that  Sile  said  she  must  "  charge  it  to  her  abolition 
boarder."  He  must  now  show  still  more  "sperrit" 
by  bringing  the  tar.  A  well-worn  broom  had  been 
borrowed  of  Mrs.  Pepperill,  by  those  who  knew  best 
how  the  tar  in  such  cases  should  be  applied :  the  han- 
dle of  this  was  thrust  by  one  of  the  men,  named 
Griffin,  through  the  bail  of  the  kettle,  and  Dan  was 
ordered  to  "  ketch  holt  o'  t'other  eend,"  and  help 
carry. 

Dan    "  ketched   holt "    accordingly.     But    never   was 


PENN  AND    THE   RUFFIANS.  23 

kettle  so  heavy  as  that;  its  miserable  weight  made 
him  groan  at  every  step.  Suddenly  the  broom-handle 
slipped  from  his  hand,  and  down  it  went.  No  doubt 
his  laudable  object  was  to  spill  the  tar,  in  order  to 
gain  time  for  his  benefactor,  and  perhaps  postpone  the 
tarring  and  feathering  altogether.  But  Griffin  grasped 
the  kettle  in  time  to  prevent  its  upsetting,  and  the 
next  instant  nourished  the  club  over  Dan's  head. 

"  I  didn't  mean  tu !  it  slipped !  "  shrieked  the  ter- 
rified wretch.  After  which  he  durst  no  more  attempt 
to  thwart  the  chivalrous  designs  of  his  friends,  but  car- 
ried the  tar  like  a  gentleman. 

"  This  way ! "  said  Silas,  getting  the  escaped  feathers 
into  a  pile  with  his  foot.  "  Thar !  set  it  down.  Now, 
sir,"  throwing  away  his  own  coat,  "  peel  off  them 
clo'es  o'  yourn,  Mr.  Schoolmaster,  mighty  quick,  if 
you  don't  want  'em  peeled  off  fur  ye  ! " 

Penn  gave  no  sign  of  compliance,  but  fixed  his  eye 
steadfastly  upon  Mr.  Ropes. 

"I  insist,"  said  he,  —  for  he  had  already  made  the 
request  while  the  men  were  bringing  the  tar,  — "  on 
knowing  what  I  have  done  to  merit  this  treatment." 

"  Wai,  that  I  don't  mind  tellin'  ye,"  said  Silas,  "  for 
we've  all  night  for  this  yer  little  job  before  us.  Dan 
Pepperill,  stand  up  here !  " 

Dan  came  forward,  appearing  extremely  low-spirited 
and  weak  in  the  knees. 

"  Is  it   you,  Daniel,  who  are  to  bear  witness  against 


2£  PENN  AND    THE  RUFFIANS. 

me  ? "  said  Penn,  in  a  voice  of  singular  gentleness, 
which  chimed  in  like  a  sweet  and  solemn  bell  after 
the  harsh  clangor  of  Silas's  ruffian  tones. 

Dan  rolled  up  his  eyes,  hugged  his  tattered  elbows, 
and  gave  a  dismal  groan. 

"  Come  ! "  said  Silas,  bestowing  a  slap  on  his  back 
which  nearly  knocked  him  down,  "  straighten  them 
knees  o'  yourn,  and  be  a  man.  Yes,  Mr.  Schoolmas- 
ter, Dan  is  a-going  to  bear  witness  agin'  you.  He 
has  turned  from  the  error  of  his  ways,  and  now  his 
noble  southern  heart  is  a-burnin'  to  take  vengeance  on 
all  the  enemies  of  his  beloved  country.  Ain't  it,  Dan  ? 
—  say  yes,"  he  hissed  in  his  ear,  giving  him  a  second 
slap,  "or  else  —  you  know  !  " 

"  O  Lord,  yes ! "  ejaculated  Dan,  with  a  start  of 
terror.  "What  Mr.  Ropes  says  is  perfectly  —  per- 
fectly—  jes'  so  !  " 

"  Your  heart  is  a-burnin',  ain't  it  ?  "  said  Silas. 

"  Ye — yes  !    I  be  durned  if  it  ain't !  "  said  Dan. 

"  This  man,"  continued  Ropes,  who  prided  himself 
on  being  a  great  orator,  with  power  to  "  fire  the 
southern  heart,"  and  never  neglected  an  occasion  to 
show  himself  off  in  that  capacity,  — "  this  individgle 
ye  see  afore  ye,  gentlemen,"  —  once  more  hitting  Dan, 
this  time  with  the  toe  of  his  boot,  gently,  to  indicate 
the  subject  of  his  remarks,  —  "  was  lately  as  low-minded 
a  peep  as  ever  you  see.  He  had  no  more  conscience 
than  to  'sociate  with  niggers,  and  sell  'em  liqiior,  and 


PENN  AND    THE   RUFFIANS.  25 

even  give  'em  liquor  when  they  couldn't  pay  fur  't ; 
and  you  all  know  how  he  degraded  himself  by  takin' 
Combs's  Pete  into  his  house  and  doin'  for  him  arter 
he'd  been  very  properly  licked  by  the  patrol.  All  which, 
I  am  happy  to  say,  the  deluded  man  sincerely  repents 
of,  and  promises  to  behave  more  like  a  gentleman  in 
futur'.  Don't  you,  Dan  ?  " 

As  Dan,  attempting  to  speak,  only  gasped,  Ropes 
administered  a  sharp  poke  in  his  ribs,  whispering 
fiercely,  — 

"  Say  you  do,  mighty  quick,  or  I'll !  " 

"  O  !  I  repents  !  I — I  be  durned  if  I  don't !  "  said 
Dan. 

"  And  now,  as  to  you ! "  Silas  turned  on  the  school- 
master. "  Your  offence  in  gineral  is  bein'  a  northern 
abolitionist.  Besides  which,  your  offences  in  partic'- 
ler  is  these.  Not  contented  with  teachin'  the  Acad- 
emy, which  was  well  enough,  since  it  is  necessary  that 
a  few  should  have  larnin',  so  they  may  know  how  to 
govern  the  rest,  —  not  contented  with  that,  you  must 
run  the  thing  into  the  ground,  by  settin'  up  a  even- 
in'  school,  and  offerin'  to  larn  readin',  writin',  and 
'rithmetic,  free  gratis,  to  whosomever  wanted  to  'tend. 
Which  is  contrary  to  the  sperrit  of  our  institootions,  as 
you  have  been  warned  more  'n  oncet.  That's  charge 
Number  Two.  Charge  Number  Three  is,  that  you  stand 
up  for  the  old  rotten  Union,  and  tell  folks,  every  chance 
you  git,  that  secession,  that  noble  right  of  southerners, 
3 


26  PENN  AND    THE   RUFFIANS. 

is  a  villanous  scheme,  that  '11  ruin  the  south,  if  persisted 
in,  and  plunge  the  whole  nation  into  war.  Your  very 
words,  I  believe.  Can  you  deny  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  I  have  said  something  very  much  like  that, 
and  it  is  my  honest  conviction,"  replied  Penn,  firmly. 

"  Gentlemen,  take  notice  !  "  said  Mr.  Ropes.  "  We 
will  now  pass  on  to  charge  Number  Four,  and  be 
brief,  for  the  tar  is  a-coolin'.  Suthin'  like  eight 
days  ago,  when  the  afore-mentioned  Dan  Pepperill  was 
in  the  waller  of  his  degradation,  some  noble-souled  sons 
of  the  sunny  south "  —  the  orator  smiled  with  pleasant 
significance  —  "  lifted  him  up,  and  hung  him  up  to  air, 
in  the  crotches  of  two  trees,  jest  by  the  edge  of  the 
woods  here,  and  went  home  to  supper,  intending  to 
come  back  and  finish  the  purifying  process  begun  with 
him  later  in  the  evenin'.  But  what  did  you  do,  Mr. 
Schoolmaster,  but  come  along  and  take  him  down, 
prematoorely,  and  go  to  corruptin'  him  agin  with  your 
vile  northern  principles  !  Didn't  he,  Dan  ?  " 

"I  —  I  dun  know"  faltered  Dan. 

"  Yes,  you  do  know,  too !    Didn't  he  corrupt  you  ? " 

These  words  being  accompanied  by  a  severe  hint 
from  Sile's  boot,  Mr.  Pepperill  remembered  that  Penn 
did  corrupt  him. 

"  And  if  I  hadn't  took  ye  in  season,  you'd  have  re- 
turned to  your  base-born  mire,  wouldn't  you  ? " 

"I  suppose  I  would,"    the   miserable  Dan   admitted. 

"Wai!     now!"  —  Sile    spread    his    palm    over    the 


PENN  AND    THE   RUFFIANS.  27 

tar  to  see  if  it  retained  its  temperature,  —  "  hurry  up, 
Dan,  and  tell  us  all  this  northern  agitator  said  to  you 
that  night." 

"  O  Lord  !  "  groaned  Pepperill,  "  my  memory  is  so 
short ! " 

"  Bring  that  rope,  boys !  and  give  him  suthin'  to 
stretch  it ! "  said  Silas,  growing  impatient. 

Dan,  knowing  that  stretching  his  memory  in  the 
manner  threatened,  implied  that  his  neck  was  to  be 
stretched  along  with  it,  made  haste  to  remember. 

"  My  friends,"  said  Penn,  interrupting  the  poor 
man's  forced  and  disconnected  testimony,  "  let  me 
spare  him  the  pain  of  bearing  witness  against  me.  I 
recall  perfectly  well  every  thing  I  said  to  him  that  night. 
I  said  it  was  a  shame  that  such  outrages  as  had  been 
committed  on  him  should  be  tolerated  in  a  civilized 
society.  I  told  him  it  was  partly  his  own  fault  that 
such  a  state  of  things  existed.  I  said,  '  It  is  owing  to 
the  ignorance  and  degradation  of  you  poor  whites  that 
a  barbarous  system  is  allowed  to  flourish  and  tyran- 
nize over  you.'  I  said " 

But  here  Penn  was  interrupted  by  a  violent  outcry, 
the  majority  of  the  persons  present  coming  under  the 
head  of  "  poor  whites." 

"  Let  him  go  on !  let  him  perceed ! "  said  Silas. 
"  What  did  you  mean  by  '  barbarous  system '  ? " 

"  I  meant,"  replied  Penn,  all  fear  vanishing  in  the 
glow  of  righteous  indignation  which  filled  him,  —  "I 


28  PENN  AND    THE  RUFFIANS. 

meant  the  system  which  makes  it  a  crime  to  teach  a 
man  to  read — a  punishable  offence  to  befriend  the 
poor  and  down-trodden,  or  to  bind  up  wounds.  A 
system  which  makes  it  dangerous  for  one  to  utter  his 
honest  opinions,  even  in  private,  to  a  person  towards 
whom  he  is  at  the  same  time  showing  the  mercy  which 
others  have  denied  him."  He  looked  at  Dan,  who 
groaned.  "  A  system " 

"  Wai,  I  reckon  that  '11  do  fur  one  spell,"  broke  in 
Silas  Ropes.  "  You've  said  more  'n  enough  to  con- 
vict you,  and  to  earn  a  halter  'stead  of  a  mild  coat 
of  tar  and  feathers." 

"  I  am  well  aware,"  said  Penn,  "  that  I  can  ex- 
pect no  mercy  at  your  hands;  so  I  thought  I  might  as 
well  be  plain  with  you." 

"  And  plain  enough  you've  been,  I  swear  to  gosh !  " 
said  Silas.  "  Boys,  strip  him  !  " 

"  Wait  a  moment !  "  said  Penn,  putting  them  off  with 
a  gesture  which  they  mistook  for  an  appeal  to  some 
deadly  weapon  in  his  pocket.  "  What  I  have  said  has 
been  to  free  my  mind,  and  to  save  Daniel  trouble.  Now, 
allow  me  to  speak  a  few  words  in  my  own  defence.  I 
have  committed  no  crime  against  your  laws ;  if  I  have, 
why  not  let  the  laws  punish  me  ?  " 

"  We  take  the  laws  into  our  hands  sech  times  as 
these,"  said  the  man  called  Gad. 

"  You're  an  abolitionist,  and  that's  enough,"  said 
another. 


PENN   AND    THE   RUFFIANS.  29 

"  If  I  do  not  believe  slavery  to  be  a  good  thing,  it 
is  not  my  fault ;  I  cannot  help  my  belief.  But  one 
thing  I  will  declare.  I  have  never  interfered  with  your 
institution  in  any  way  at  all  dangerous  to  you,  or  inju- 
rious to  your  slaves.  I  have  not  rendered  them  discon- 
tented, but,  whenever  I  have  had  occasion,  I  have  coun- 
selled them  to  be  patient  and  faithful  to  their  masters. 
I  came  among  you  a  very  peaceable  man,  a  simple 
schoolmaster,  and  I  have  tried  to  do  good  to  every- 
body, and  harm  to  no  one.  With  this  motive  I  opened 
an  evening  school  for  poor  whites.  How  many  men 
here  have  any  education  ?  How  many  can  read  and 
write  ?  Not  many,  I  am  sure." 

"  What's  the  odds,  so  long  as  they're  men  of  the  true 
sperrit  ? "  interrupted  Silas  Ropes.  "  I  can  read  for 
one ;  and  as  for  the  rest,  what  good  would  it  do  'em 
to  be  edecated  ?  'Twould  only  make  'em  jes'  sech  low, 
sneakin',  thievin'  white  slaves,  like  the  greasy  mechanics 
at  the  north." 

"  The  white  slaves  are  not  at  the  north,"  said  Penn. 
"  Education  alone  makes  free  men.  If  you,  who  threaten 
me  with  violence  here  to-night,  had  the  common  school 
education  of  the  north,  you  would  not  be  engaged  in 
such  business  ;  you  would  be  ashamed  of  assaulting  a 
peaceable  man  on  account  of  his  opinions ;  you  would 
know  that  the  man  who  comes  to  teach  you  is  your 
best  friend.  If  you  were  not  ignorant  men,  you,  who 
do  not  own  slaves,  would  know  that  slavery  is  the  worst 
3* 


30  PENN  AND    THE   RUFFIANS. 

enemy  of  your  prosperity,  and  you  would  not  be  made 
its  willing  tools." 

The  firm  dignity  of  the  youth,  assisted  by  the  illusion 
that  prevailed  concerning  a  revolver  in  his  pocket,  had 
kept  his  foes  at  bay,  and  gained  him  a  hearing.  He  now 
attempted  to  pass  on,  when  the  man  Gad,  stepping 
behind  him,  raised  the  broom-handle,  and  dealt  him  a 
stunning  blow  on  the  back  of  the  head. 

"  Down  with  him !  "  "  Strip  him  !  "  "  Give  him  a 
thrashing  first !  "  "  Hang  him  !  " 

And  the  ruffians  threw  themselves  furiously  upon  the 
fallen  man. 

"  Whar's  that  Dutch  boy  ?  "  cried  Silas.  "  I  meant 
he  should  help  Dan  lay  on  the  tar." 

But  Carl  was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  having  taken  ad- 
vantage of  the  confusion  and  darkness  to  escape  into 
the  woods. 


'£RE   SECRET   CELLAR. 


III. 


THE   SECRET  CELLAE. 


O  sooner  did  the  lad  feel  himself  safe  from 
pursuit,  than  he  made  his  way  out  of  the 
•woods  again,  and  ran  with  all  speed  to  Mr. 
Stackridge's  house. 

To  his  dismay  he  learned  that  that  stanch  Unionist 
was  absent  from  home. 

"Is  he  in  the  willage  ?    said  the  breathless  Carl. 

"  I  reckon  he  is,"  said  the  farmer's  wife  ;  adding  in 
a  whisper,  —  for  she  guessed  the  nature  of  Carl's  busi- 
ness, —  "  inquire  for  him  down  to  barber  Jim's."  And 
she  told  him  what  to  say  to  the  barber. 

Barber  Jim  was  a  colored  man,  who  had  demon- 
strated the  ability  of  the  African  to  take  care  of  him- 
self, by  purchasing  first  his  own  freedom  of  his  mis- 
tress, buying  his  wife  and  children  afterwards,  and 
then  accumulating  a  property  as  much  more  valuable 
than  all  Silas  Ropes  and  his  poor  white  minions  pos- 
sessed, as  his  mind  was  superior  to  their  combined  in- 
telligence. 


THE   SECRET  CELLAR. 


Jim  had  accomplished  this  hy  uniting  with 
trious  hahits  a  natural  shrewdness,  which  enabled  him 
to  make  the  most  of  his  labor  and  of  his  means. 
He  owned  the  most  flourishing  barber-shop  in  the 
place,  and  kept  in  conneccion  with  it  (I  am  sorry  to 
say)  a  bar,  at  which  he  dealt  out  to  his  customers 
some  very  bad  liquors  at  very  good  prices.  Had  Jim 
been  a  white  man,  he  would  not,  of  course,  have  stooped 
to  make  money  by  any  such  low  business  as  rum- 
selling  —  O,  no!  but  being  only  a  "nigger,"  what 
else  could  you  expect  of  him  ? 

Well,  on  this  very  evening  Jim's  place  began  to 
be  thronged  almost  before  it  was  dark.  A  few  eame 
in  to  be  shaved,  while  many  more  passed  through  the 
shop  into  the  little  bar-room  beyond.  What  was  curi- 
ous, some  went  in  who  appeared  never  to  come  out 
again  ;  Mr.  Stackridge  among  the  number. 

It  was  not  to  get  shaved,  nor  yet  to  get  tipsy, 
that  this  man  visited  Jim's  premises.  The  moment 
they  were  alone  together  in  the  bar-room,  he  gave 
the  proprietor  a  knowing  wink. 

"  Many   there  ?  " 

"I  reckon  about  a  dozen,"  said  Jim.  "Go  in?" 
Stackridge  nodded;  and  with  a  grin  Jim  opened 
a  private  door  communicating  with  some  back  stairs, 
down  which  his  visitor  went  groping  his  way  in  the 
dark. 

Customers   came    and  went  ;    now   and    then    one  dis- 


THE   SECRET   CELLAR.  33 

appeared  similarly  down  the  back  stairs  ;  many  remained 
in  the  barber's  shop  to  smoke,  and  discuss  in  loud 
tones  the  exciting  question  of  the  day  —  secession ; 
when,  lastly,  a  boy  of  fifteen  came  rushing  in.  His 
face  was  flushed  with  running,  and  he  was  quite  out 
of  breath. 

"  What's  wanting,  Carl  ?  "  said  the  barber.  "  A 
shave  ?  " 

This  was  one  of  Jim's  jokes,  at  which  his  cus- 
tomers laughed,  to  the  boy's  confusion,  for  his  cheeks 
were  as  smooth  as  a  peach. 

"  I  vants  to  find  Mishter  Stackridge,"  said  the 
lad. 

"  He  ain't  here,"  said  Jim,  looking  around  the 
room. 

"It  is  something  wery  partic'lar.  One  of  his  pigs 
have  got  choked  mit  a  cob,  and  he  must  go  home 
and  unchoke  him." 

This  was  what  Carl  had  been  directed  by  the 
farmer's  wife  to  say  to  the  barber,  in  case  he  should 
profess  ignorance  concerning  her  husband. 

"  Pity  about  the  pig,"  said  Jim.  "  Mabby  Stack- 
ridge  '11  be  in  bimeby.  Any  thing  else  I  can  do  for 
ye?" 

Carl  stepped  up  to  the  barber,  and  said  in  a  hoarse 
whisper,  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  every  body,  — 

"  A    mug   of  peer,    if  you    pleashe." 

"  I    got     some    that  '11     make    a    Dutchman's     head 


34  THE    SECRET   CELLAR. 

hum  ! "  said  Jim,  leading  the  way  into  the  little  grog 
rocm. 

"  That's  Villars's  Dutch  boy,"'  said  one  of  the  smokers 
in  the  barber-shop.  "  Beats  all  nater,  how  these  Dutch 
will  swill  down  any  thing  in  the  shape  of  beer ! " 

This  elegant  observation  may  have  had  a  grain  of 
truth  in  it,  as  we  who  have  Teutonic  friends  may 
have  reason  to  know.  However,  the  man  had  mistaken 
the  boy  this  tune. 

"  It  is  not  the  peer  I  vants,  it  is  Mr.  Stackridge," 
whispered  Carl,  when  alone  with  the  proprietor. 

Jim  regarded  him  doubtfully  a  moment,  then  said, 
"  I  reckon  I  shall  have  to  open  a  cask  in  the  suller. 
You  jest  tend  bar  for  me  while  I  am  gone." 

He  descended  the  stairs,  closing  the  door  after  him. 
Carl,  who  thought  of  the  schoolmaster  in  the  hands 
of  the  mob,  felt  his  heart  swell  and  burn  with  anxiety 
at  each  moment's  delay.  Jim  did  not  keep  him  long 
waiting. 

"  This  way,  Carl,  if  you  want  some  of  the  right 
sort,"  said  the  negro  from  the  stairs. 

Carl  went  down  in  the  darkness,  Jim  taking  his 
hand  to  guide  him.  They  entered  a  cellar,  crowded 
with  casks  and  boxes,  where  there  was  a  dim  lamp 
burning ;  but  no  human  being  was  visible,  until  sud- 
denly out  of  a  low,  dark  passage,  between  some  bar- 
rels, a  stooping  figure  emerged,  giving  Carl  a  momen- 
tary start  of  alarm. 


THE    SECRET   CELLAR.  35 

"What's  the  trouble,  Carl?" 

"  O  !  Mishter  Stackridge  !  is  it  you  ?  "  said  Carl, 
as  the  figure  stood  erect  in  the  dim  light,  —  sallow, 
bony,  grim,  attired  in  coarse  clothes.  "  The  school- 
master—  that  is  the  trouble!"  and  he  hastily  related 
what  he  had  seen. 

"  Wouldn't  take  the  pistol  ?  the  fool  ! "  muttered 
the  farmer.  "  But  I'll  see  what  I  can  do  for  him." 
He  grasped  the  boy's  collar,  and  said  in  a  suppressed 
but  terribly  earnest  voice,  "  Swear  never  to  breathe  a 
word  of  what  I'm  going  to  show  you ! " 

"  I  shwear  !  "    said  Carl. 

"  Come  !  " 

Stackridge  took  him  by  the  wrist,  and  drew  him 
after  him  into  the  passage.  It  was  utterly  dark,  and 
Carl  had  to  stoop  in  order  to  avoid  hitting  his  head. 
As  they  approached  the  end  of  it,  he  could  distinguish 
the  sound  of  voices,  —  one  louder  than  the  rest  giving 
the  word  of  command. 

"  Order  —  arms  !  " 

The  farmer  knocked  on  the  head  of  a  cask,  which 
rolled  aside,  and  opened  the  way  into  a  cellar  beyond, 
under  an  old  storehouse,  which  was  likewise  a  part 
of  Barber  Jim's  property. 

The  second  cellar  was  much  larger  and  better  lighted 
than  the  first,  and  rendered  picturesque  by  heavy  fes- 
toons of  cobwebs  hanging  from  the  dark  beams  above. 
The  rays  of  the  lamps  flashed  upon  gun-barrels,  and 


36  THE   SECRET   CELLAR. 

cast  against  the  damp  and  mouldy  walls  gigantic 
shadows  of  groups  of  men.  Some  were  conversing, 
others  were  practising  the  soldiers'  drill. 

"  Neighbors ! "  said  Stackridge,  in  a  voice  which 
commanded  instant  attention,  and  drew  around  him  and 
Carl  an  eager  group.  "  It's  just  as  I  told  you,  — 
Ropes  and  his  gang  are  lynching  Hapgood !  " 

"  It's  the  fellow's  own  fault,"  said  a  stern,  dark 
man,  the  same  who  had  been  drilling  the  men.  "  He 
should  have  taken  care  of  himself." 

"  Young  Hapgood's  a  decent  sort  of  cuss,"  said 
another  whom  Carl  knew,  —  a  farmer  named  Withers, 
— "  and  I  like  him.  I  believe  he  means  well ;  but 
he  ain't  one  of  us." 

"  I've  been  deceived  in  him,"  said  a  third.  "  He 
always  minded  his  own  business,  and  kept  so  quiet 
about  our  institutions,  I  never  suspected  he  was  anti- 
slavery  till  I  talked  with  him  t'other  day  about  join- 
ing us  —  then  he  out  with  it." 

"  He  thinks  we're  all  wrong,"  said  a  bigoted  pro- 
slavery  man  named  Deslow.  "  He  says  slavery's  the 
cause  of  the  war,  and  it's  absurd  in  us  to  go  in  for  the 
Union  and  slavery  too !  "  For  these  men,  though  loyal 
to  the  government,  and  bitterly  opposed  to  secession, 
were  nearly  all  slaveholders  or  believers  in  slavery. 

"  May  be  the  fellow  ain't  far  wrong  there,"  said  he 
who  had  been  drilling  his  comrades  "  I  think  myself 
slavery's  the  cause  of  the  war,  and  that's  what  puts 


THE    SECRET   CELLAR.  3' 

us  in  such  a  hard  place.  The  time  may  come  wher, 
we  will  have  to  take  a  different  stand  —  go  the  whole 
figure  with  the  free  north,  or  drift  with  the  cotton 
states.  But  that  time  hain't  come  yet." 

"  But  the  time  has  come,"  said  Stackridge,  impa- 
tiently, "to  do  something  for  Hapgood,  if  we  intend 
to  help  him  at  all.  While  we  are  talking,  he  may 
be  hanging." 

"  And  what  can  we  do  ? "  retorted  the  other.  "  We 
can't  make  a  move  for  him  without  showing  our  hand, 
and  it  ain't  time  for  that  yet." 

"  True  enough,  Captain  Grudd,"  said  Stackridge. 
"  But  three  or  four  of  us,  with  our  revolvers,  can 
happen  that  way,  and  take  him  out  of  the  hands  of 
Ropes  and  his  cowardly  crew  without  much  difficulty. 
I,  for  one,  am  going." 

"  Hapgood  don't  even  believe  in  fighting !  "  observed 
Dcslow,  with  immense  disgust ;  "  and  blast  me  if  I  am 
going  to  fight  for  him ! " 

Carl  was  almost  driven  to  despair  by  the  indif- 
ference of  these  men  and  the  time  wasted  in  discus- 
sion. He  could  have  hugged  the  grim  and  bony 
Stackridge  when  he  saw  him  make  a  decided  move 
at  last.  Three  others  volunteered  to  accompany  them. 
The  cask  was  once  more  rolled  away  from  the  en- 
trance, and  one  by  one  they  crept  quickly  through 
the  passage  into  the  first  cellar. 

Stackridge   preceded    the    rest,   to    see    that    the    way 


88  THE  SECRET   CELLAR. 

was  clear.  There  was  no  one  at  the  bar ;  the  dooi 
leading  into  the  shop  was  closed ;  and  Carl,  following 
the  four  men,  passed  out  by  a  long  entry  communi- 
cating with  the  street,  the  door  of  which  was  thrown 
open  to  the  public  on  occasions  when  there  was  a 
great  rush  to  Jim's  bar,  but  which  was  fastened  this 
night  by  a  latch  that  could  be  lifted  only  from  the 
inside. 


A    KKARCH  FOR    THE   MISSING. 


IV, 


A   SEARCH  FOR   THE  MISSING. 


HE  academy  was  situated  in  a  retired  spot, 
half  a  mile  out  of  the  village.  Stackridge 
and  his  party  were  soon  pushing  rapidly 
towards  it  along  the  dark,  unfrequented  road.  Carl 
ran  on  before,  leading  the  way  to  the  scene  of  the 
lynching. 

The  place  was  deserted  and  silent.  Only  the  cold 
wind  swept  the  bleak  wood-side,  making  melancholy 
moans  among  the  trees.  Overhead  shone  the  stars, 
lighting  dimly  the  desolation  of  the  ground. 

"Now,  where's  yer  tar-and- feathering  party?"  said 
Stackridge.  "  See  here,  Dutchy  !  ye  hain't  been  foolin' 
us,  have  ye  ? " 

"  I  vish  it  vas  notting  but  fooling ! "  said  Carl,  full 
of  distress,  fearing  the  worst.  "We  have  come  too 
late.  The  willains  have  took  him  off." 

"  Feathers,  men  !  "  muttered  Stackridge,  picking  up 
something  from  beneath  his  feet.  "The  boy's  right,' 


tO  A    SEARCH  FOB    THE   MISSIN&. 

Now,  which  way  have  they  gone  ?  —  that's  the  ques- 
tion." 

"  Hark  !  "    said  Carl.      "  I  see  a  man  !  " 

Indeed,  just  then  a  dim  figure  arose  from  the  earth, 
»nd  appeared  slowly  and  painfully  moving  away. 

"  Hold  on  there  !  "  cried  Stackridge.  "  Needn't  be 
afeared  of  us.  We're  your  friends." 

The  figure  stopped,   uttering  a  deep   groan. 

"  Is  it  you,  Hapgood  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  most  miserable  voice  in  the 
world.  "  It's  me." 

"Who's  me?" 

"  Pepperill  —  Dan  Pepperill ;  ye  know  me,  don't  ye, 
Stackridge  r " 

"  You  ?  you  scoundrel !  "  said  the  farmer.  "  What 
have  ye  been  doing  to  the  schoolmaster  ?  Answer  me 
this  minute,  or  I'll " 

"  O,  don't,  don't ! "  implored  the  wretch.  "  I'll  an- 
swer, I'll  tell  every  thing,  only  give  me  a  chance  !  " 

"  Be  quick,   then,  and   tell  no  lies  !  " 

The  poor  man  looked  around  at  his  captors  in  the 
starlight,  stooping  dejectedly,  and  rubbing  his  bent 
knees. 

"  I  ain't  to  blame  —  I'll  tell  ye  that  to  begin  with 
I've  been  jest  knocked  about,  from  post  to  pillar,  and 
from  pillar  tc  post,  till  I  don't  know  who's  my  friends 
and  who  ain't.  I  reckon  more  ain't  than  is  ! "  added 
he,  dismally 


A    SEARCH  FOR    THE  MISSING.  41 

"  That's  neither  here  nor  there  ! "  said  Stackridge 
'Where's  Hapgood  ?  that's  what  I  want  to  know.' 

"  Ye  see,"  said  Dan,  endeavoring  to  collect  his  wits 
[you  would  have  thought  they  were  in  his  kneepans, 
and  he  was  industriously  rubbing  them  up),  "  Ropes 
sent  me  to  tote  the  kittle  home,  and  when  I  got  back 
here,  I  be  durned  if  they  wasn't  all  gone,  schoolmaster 
and  all." 

"  But  what  had  they  done   to  him  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  shore !  That's  what  L  was  a 
comin'  back  fur  to  see.  He  let  me  down  when  I 
was  hung  up  on  the  rail,  and  helped  me  home ;  and 
BO  I  says  to  myself,  says  I,  '  Why  shouldn't  I  do  as 
much  by  him  ? '  so  I  come  back,  and  found  him 
gone." 

"  What  was  in  the  kittle  ?  "  Stackridge  took  him 
by  the  throat. 

"  O,  don't  go  fur  to  lay  in'  it  to  me,  and  111  tell  ye  ! 
Thar'd  been  tar  in  the  kittle !  It  had  been  used  to 
give  him  a  coat.  That's  the  fact,  durn  me  if  it  ain't ! 
They  put  it  on  with  the  broom  —  my  broom  —  they  made 
me  bring  my  own  broom,  that's  the  everlastin'  truth ! 
made  me  do  it  myself,  and  spile  my  wife's  best  broom 
into  the  bargain ! "  And  Pepperill  sobbed. 

"  You  put  on  the   tar  ?  " 

"  Don't  kill  me,  and  I'll  own  up  !  I  did  put  on  some 
on't,  that's  a  fact.  Hopes  would  a'  killed  me  if  I 
hadn't,  and  now  you  kill  me  fur  doin'  of  it.  He  did 
4* 


42  A    SEARCH  FOR    THE    M1SS1XG. 

knock  me  down,  'cause  he  said  I  didn't  rub  it  on  hard 
enough ;  and  arter  that  he  rubbed  it  himself." 

"What  next,  you  scoundrel?" 

"  Next,  they  rolled  him  in  the  feathers,  and  sent  me, 
as  I  told  ye,  to  tote  the  kittle  home.  Now  don't,  don't 
go  fur  to  hang  me,  Mr.  Stackridge !  Help  me,  men ! 
help  me,  Withers,  —  Devit !  For  he  means  to  be  the 
death  of  me,  I'm  shore !  " 

Indeed,  Stackridge  was  in  a  tremendous  passion,  and 
would,  no  doubt,  have  done  the  man  some  serious  injury 
but  for  the  timely  interposition  of  Carl. 

"  O,  you're  a  good  boy,  Carl !  "  cried  Dan,  in  an  ex- 
stasy  of  terror  and  gratitude.  "  You  know  they  druv 
me  to  it,  don't  ye  ?  You  know  I  wouldn't  have  gone 
fur  to  do  it  no  how,  if  't  hadn't  been  to  save  my  life. 
And  as  fur  rubbing  on  the  tar,  I  know'd  they'd  rub 
harder  'n  I  did  ;  so  I  took  holt,  if  only  to  do  it  more 
soft  and  gentle-like." 

Carl  testified  to  Dan's  apparent  unwillingness  to  par- 
ticipate in  the  outrage ;  and  Stackridge,  finding  that 
nothing  more  could  be  got  out  of  the  terror-stricken 
wretch,  flung  him  off  in  great  rage  and  disgust. 

"  We  must  find  what  they  have  done  with  Hapgood," 
be  said.  "  We  're  losing  time  here.  We  '11  go  to  his 
boarding-place  first." 

As  Pepperill  fell  backwards  upon  some  stones,  and  lay 
there  helplessly,  Carl  ran  to  him  to  learn  if  he  was  hurt. 

"  Wai,  I  be   hurt  some,"    murmured   Dan ;    "  a  good 


A    SEARCH   FOR    THE   MI8SIXG.  43 

deal  in  my  back,  and  a  durned  sight  more  in  my 
feelin's.  As  if  I  won't  sufferin'  a'ready  the  pangs  of 
death  —  wus'n  death  !  —  a  thinkin'  about  the  master, 
and  what's  been  done  to  him,  arter  he'd  been  so  kind 
to  me  —  and  thinkin'  he'd  think  I'm  the  ongratefulest 
cuss  out  of  the  bad  place  !  —  and  then  to  have  it  all  laid 
on  to  me  by  Stackridge  and  the  rest !  that's  the  stun 
that  hurts  me  wust  of  any ! " 

Carl  thought,  if  that  was  all,  he  could  not  assist 
him  much ;  and  he  ran  on  after  the  men,  leaving  Pep- 
perill  snivelling  like  a  whipped  schoolboy  on  the 
stones. 

Penn's  landlady,  the  worthy  Mrs.  Sprowl,  lived  in  a 
lonesome  house  that  stood  far  back  in  the  fields,  at 
least  a  dozen  rods  from  the  road.  She  was  a  widow, 
whose  daughters  were  either  married  or  dead,  and  whose 
only  son  was  a  rover,  having  been  guilty  of  some  crime 
that  rendered  it  unsafe  for  him  to  visit  his  bereaved 
parent.  Penn  had  chosen  her  house  for  his  home,  partly 
because  she  needed  some  such  assistance  in  gaining  a 
living,  but  chiefly,  I  think,  because  she  did  not  own 
slaves.  The  other  inmates  of  her  solitary  abode  were 
two  large,  ferocious  dogs,  which  she  kept  for  the  sake 
of  their  company  and  protection. 

But  this  night  the  house  looked  as  if  forsaken  even 
by  these.  It  was  utterly  dark  and  silent.  When  Stack- 
ridge  shook  the  door,  however,  the  illusion  was  dis- 
pelled by  two  fierce  growls  that  resounded  within. 


44        A  SEARCH  FOR  THE  MISSING. 

"  Hello  !  Mrs.  Sprowl !  "  shouted  the  farmer,  shak- 
ing  the  door  again,  and  knocking  violently.  "  Let 
me  in !  " 

At  that  the  growling  broke  into  savage  barks,  which 
made  Stackridge  lay  his  hand  on  the  revolver  Carl  had 
returned  to  him.  A  window  was  then  cautiously  opened, 
and  a  bit  of  night-cap  exposed. 

"  If  it's  you  agin,"  said  a  shrill  feminine  voice, 
"  I  warn  you  to  be  gone !  If  you  think  I  can't  set 
the  dogs  on  to  you,  because  you've  slep'  in  my  house 
so  long,  you're  very  much  mistaken.  They'll  tear  you 
as  they  would  a  pa'tridge !  Go  away,  go  away,  I 
tell  ye ;  you've  been  the  ruin  of  me,  and  I  ain't 
a-going  to  resk  my  life  a-harboring  of  you  any 
longer." 

"  Mrs.  Sprowl ! "  answered  the  stern  voice  of  the 
farmer. 

"  Dear  me  !  ain't  it  the  schoolmaster  ?  "  cried  the  as- 
tonished lady.  "  I  thought  it  was  him  come  back 
agin  to  force  his  way  into  my  house,  after  I've  twice 
forbid  him  !  " 

"  Why  forbid  him  ?  " 

"  Is  it  you,  Mr.  Stackridge  ?  Then  I'll  be  free,  and 
tell  ye.  I've  been  informed  he's  a  dangerous  man. 
I've  been  warned  to  shet  my  doors  agin'  him,  if  I 
wouldn't  have  my  house  pulled  down  on  to  my  head." 

"  Who  warned  you  ?  " 

"  Silas  Ropes,  this  very  night.     He  come  to  me,  and 


A    SEARCH  FOR    THE   MISSING.  45 

says,  says  he,  '  We've  gin  your  abolition  boarder  a 
coat,  which  you  must  charge  to  his  account ; '  for  you 
see,"  added  the  head  at  the  window,  pathetically, 
"  they  took  the  bed  he  has  slep'  on,  right  out  of  my 
house,  and  I  don't  s'pose  I  shall  see  ary  feather  of 
that  bed  ever  agin !  live  goose's  feathers  they  was  too ! 
and  a  poor  lone  widder  that  could  ill  afford  it ! " 

"  Where  is  the  master  ?  " 

"  Wai,  after  Ropes  and  his  friends  was  gone,  he 
comes  too,  an  awful  lookin'  object  as  ever  you  see ! 
'  Mrs.  Sprowl,'  says  he,  '  don't  be  scared  ;  it's  only  me ; 
won't  ye  let  me  in  ? '  for  ye  see,  I'd  shet  the  house 
agin'  him  in  season,  detarmined  so  dangerous  a  char- 
acter should  never  darken  my  doors  agin." 

"  And  he  was  naked  !  " 

"  I  'spose  he  was,  all  but  the  feathers,  and  suthin' 
or  other  he  seemed  to  have  flung  over  him." 

"  Such  a  night  as  this !  "  exclaimed  Stackridge. 
;'  You're  a  heartless  jade,  Mrs.  Sprowl !  —  I  don't  wonder 
the  fellow  hates  slavery,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "  when 
it  makes  ruffians  of  the  men  and  monsters  even  of  the 
women !  —  Which  way  did  he  go  ?  " 

"  That's  more  'n  I  can  tell ! "  answered  the  lady, 
sharply.  "  It's  none  o'  my  business  where  he  goes, 
if  he  don't  come  here !  That  I  won't  have,  call 
me  what  names  you  please ! "  And  she  shut  the 
window. 

"  Hang  the  critter  !    after    all  Hapgood  has  done  for 


46        A  SEARCH  FOR  THE  MISSING. 

her !  "  said  the  indignant  Stackridge,  —  for  it  was  well- 
known  that  she  was  indebted  to  the  gentle  and  gen- 
erous Penn  for  many  benefits.  "  But  it's  no  use  to 
stand  here.  We'll  go  to  my  house,  men,  —  may  be 
he's  there," 


L'AML   AND    HIS   FRIENDS.  47 


V. 


CARL  AND  HIS  FRIENDS. 


ARL  MINNEVICH  was  the  son  of  a 
German,  who,  in  company  with  a  brother, 
had  come  to  America  a  few  years  before, 
and  settled  in  Tennessee.  There  the  Minneviches  pur- 
chased a  farm,  and  were  beginning  to  prosper  in  their 
new  home,  when  Carl's  father  suddenly  died.  The 
boy  had  lost  his  mother  on  the  voyage  to  America, 
lie  was  now  an  orphan,  destined  to  experience  all  the 
humiliation,  dependence,  and  wrong,  which  ever  an 
orphan  knew. 

Immediately  the  sole  proprietorship  of  the  farm,  which 
had  been  bought  by  both,  was  assumed  by  the  sur- 
viving brother.  This  man  had  a  selfish,  ill-tempered 
wife,  and  a  family  of  great  boys.  Minnevich  himself 
was  naturally  a  good,  honest  man ;  but  Frau  Minne- 
vich wanted  the  entire  property  for  her  own  children, 
hated  Carl  because  he  was  in  the  way,  and  treated  him 
with  cruelty.  His  big  cousins  followed  their  mother's 


4b  CARL   AND   HIS   FRIENDS. 

example,  and  bullied  him.  How  to  obtain  protection 
or  redress  he  knew  not.  He  was  a  stranger,  speaking 
a  strange  tongue,  in  the  land  of  his  father's  adoption. 
Ah,  how  often  then  did  he  think  of  the  happy  father- 
land, before  that  luckless  voyage  was  undertaken,  when 
he  still  had  his  mother,  ctud  his  friends,  and  all  his 
little  playfellows,  whom  he  could  never  see  more  ! 

So  matters  went  on  for  a  year  or  two,  until  the 
boy's  grievances  grew  intolerable,  and  he  one  day  took 
it  into  his  head  to  please  Frau  Minnevich  for  once  in 
his  life,  if  never  again.  In  the  night  time  he  made  up 
a  little  bundle  of  his  clothes,  threw  it  out  of  the 
window,  got  out  himself  after  it,  climbed  down  upon 
the  roof  of  the  shed,  jumped  to  the  ground,  and  trudged 
away  in  the  early  morning  starlight,  a  wanderer.  It 
has  been  necessary  to  touch  upon  this  point  in  Carl's 
history,  in  order  to  explain  why  it  was  he  ever  after- 
wards felt  such  deep  gratitude  towards  those  who  be- 
friended him  in  the  hour  of  his  need. 

For  many  days  and  nights  he  wandered  among  the 
hills  of  Tennessee,  looking  in  vain  for  work,  and  begging 
his  bread.  Sometimes  he  almost  wished  himself  a  slave- 
boy,  for  then  he  would  have  had  a  home  at  least,  if 
only  a  wretched  cabin,  and  friends,  if  only  negroes,  — 
those  oppressed,  beaten,  bought-and-sold,  yet  patient 
and  cheerful  people,  whose  lot  seemed,  after  all,  so 
much  happier  than  his  own.  Carl  had  a  large,  warm 
heart,  and  he  longed  with  infinite  longing  for  somebody 
to  love  him  and  treat  him  kindly. 


CARL   AND    HIS   FRIENDS.  49 

At  last,  as  he  was  sitting  one  cold  evening  by  the 
road-side,  weary,  hungry,  despondent,  not  knowing 
where  he  was  to  find  his  supper,  and  seeing  nothing 
else  for  him  to  do  but  to  lie  down  under  some  bush, 
there  to  shiver  and  starve  till  morning,  a  voice  of  un- 
'wonted  kindness  accosted  him. 

"  My  poor  boy,  you  seem  to  be  in  trouble  ;  can  I 
help  you  ?  " 

Poor  Carl  burst  into  tears.  It  was  the  voice  of  Penn 
Hapgood ;  and  in  its  tones  were  sympathy,  comfort,  hope. 
Penn  took  him  by  the  arm,  and  lifted  him  up,  and 
carried  his  bundle  for  him,  talking  to  him  all  the  time 
so  like  a  gentle  and  loving  brother,  that  Carl  said  in 
the  depths  of  his  soul  that  he  would  some  day  repay 
him,  if  he  lived ;  and  he  prayed  God  secretly  that 
he  might  live,  and  be  able  some  day  to  repay  him 
for  those  sweet  and  gracious  words. 

Penn  never  quitted  him  until  he  had  found  him  a 
home  ;  neither  after  that  did  he  forget  him.  He  took 
him  into  his  school,  gave  him  his  tuition,  and  be- 
friended him  in  a  hundred  little  ways  beside. 

And  now  the  time  had  arrived  when  Penn  himself 
•tood  in  need  of  friends.  The  evening  came,  and  Carl 
was  missing  from  his  new  home. 

"  Whar's    dat   ar    boy    took   hisself   to,    I'd    like   to 
know  !  "    scolded  old  Toby.      "  I'll  clar  away  de  table, 
and   he'll    lose  his  supper,  if  he   stays  anoder  minute ! 
Debil  take  me,  if  I  don't !  " 
5 


50  CARL   AXD    HIS   FRIENDS. 

He  had  made  the  same  threat  a  dozen  times,  and 
still  he  kept  Carl's  potatoes  hot  for  him,  and  the  table 
waiting.  For  the  old  negro,  though  he  loved  dearly 
to  show  his  importance  by  making  a  good  deal  of  blus- 
ter about  his  work,  had  really  one  of  the  kindest  hearts 
in  the  world,  and  was  as  devoted  to  the  boy  he 
scolded  as  any  indulgent  old  grandmother. 

"  The  '  debil '  will  take  you,  sure  enough,  I'm  afraid, 
Toby,  if  you  appeal  to  him  so  often,"  said  a  mildly  re- 
proving voice. 

It  was  Mr.  Villars,  the  old  worn-out  clergyman ;  a 
man  of  seventy  winters,  pale,  white-haired,  blind,  feeble 
of  body,  yet  strong  and  serene  of  soul.  He  came  softly, 
groping  his  way  into  the  kitchen,  in  order  to  put  his 
feet  to  Toby's  fire. 

"  Laws,  massa,''  said  old  Toby,  grinning,  "  debil 
knows  I  ain't  in  'arnest !  he  knows  better  'n  to  take 
me  at  my  word,  for  I  speaks  his  name  widout  no  kind 
o'  respec',  allus,  I  does.  Hyar's  yer  ol'  easy  char  fur 
ye,  Mass'  Villars.  Now  you  jes'  make  yerself  comf  ta- 
ble." And  he  cleared  a  place  on  the  stove-hearth  for 
the  old  man's  feet. 

"Thank  you,  Toby."  With  his  elbows  resting  on 
the  arms  of  the  chair,  his  hands  folded  thought- 
fully before  his  breast,  and  his  beautiful  old  face  smil- 
ing the  kindness  which  his  blind  eyes  could  not  look, 
Mr.  Villars  sat  by  the  fire.  "  Where  is  Carl  to-night 
Toby  ?  " 


CARL   AND   HIS   FRIENDS.  51 

"  Dat  ar's  de  question  ;  dat's  de  pint,  massa.  Mos' 
I  can  say  is,  he  ain't  whar  he  ought  to  be,  a  eatin' 
ob  his  supper.  Chocolate's  all  a  bilin'  away  to  nuffin\ 
ketch  dis  chile  tryin'  to  keep  tings  hot  for  his  supper 
anoder  time !  "  And  Toby  added,  in  a  whisper  ex- 
pressive of  great  astonishment  at  himself,  "  What  I 
eber  took  dat  ar  boy  to  keep  fur 's  one  ob  de  mys- 
teries !  "' 

For  Toby,  though  only  a  servant  (indeed,  he  had 
formerly  been  a  slave  in  the  family),  had  had  his  own 
way  so  long  in  every  thing  that  concerned  the  man- 
agement of  the  household,  that  he  had  come  to  believe 
himself  the  proprietor,  not  only  of  the  house  and  land, 
and  poultry  and  pigs,  but  of  the  family  itself.  He 
owned  "  oF  Mass  Villars,"  and  an  exceedingly  precious 
piece  of  property  he  considered  him,  especially  since  he 
had  become  blind.  He  was  likewise  (in  his  own  ex- 
alted imagination)  sole  inheritor  and  guardian-in-chief  of 
"  Miss  Jinny,"  Mr.  Villars's  youngest  daughter,  child 
of  his  old  age,  of  whom  Mrs.  Villars  said,  on  her  death- 
bed, "  Take  always  good  care  of  my  darling,  dear  To- 
by!" —  an  injunction  which  the  negro  regarded  as  a 
sort  of  last  will  and  testament  bequeathing  the  girl  to  him 
beyond  mortal  question. 

There  was,  in  fact,  but  one  member  of  the  household 
he  did  not  exclusively  claim.  This  was  the  married 
daughter,  Salina,  whose  life  had  been  embittered  by  a 
truant  husband,  —  no  other,  in  fact,  than  the  erring  son 


52  CARL   AND    HIS   FBI  ENDS. 

of  the  worthy  Mrs.  Sprowl.  The  day  when  the  infat- 
uated girl  niade  a  marriage  so  much  beneath  the  family 
dignity,  Toby,  in  great  grief  and  indignation,  gave  her 
up.  "  I  washes  my  hands  ob  her !  she  ain't  no  more 
a  chile  ob  mine  !  "  said  the  old  servant,  passionately 
weeping,  as  if  the  washing  of  his  hands  was  to  be  lit- 
eral, and  no  other  fluid  would  serve  his  dark  purpose 
but  tears.  And  when,  after  Sprowl' s  desertion  of  her, 
she  returned,  humiliated  and  disgraced,  to  her  father's 
iiouse,  —  that  is  to  say,  Toby's  house,  —  Toby  had  com- 
passion on  her,  and  took  her  in,  but  never  set  up  any 
claim  to  her  again. 

"  Where  is  Carl  ?  Hasn't  Carl  come  yet  ? "  asked 
a  sweet  but  very  anxious  voice.  And  Virginia,  the 
youngest  daughter,  stood  in  the  kitchen  door. 

''He  hain't  come  yet,  Miss  Jinny;  dat  ar  a  fact!" 
said  Toby.  "  'Pears  like  somefin's  hap' en' d  to  dat  ar 
boy.  I  neber  knowed  him  stay  out  so,  when  dar's  any 
eatin'  gwine  on,  —  for  he's  a  master  hand  for  his  supper, 
dat  boy  ar !  Laws,  I  hain't  forgot  how  he  laid  in  de 
vittles  de  fust  night  Massa  Penn  fetched  him  hyar !  He 
was  right  hungry,  he  was,  and  he  took  holt  powerful ! 
'  I  neber  can  keep  dat  ar  boy  in  de  world,'  says  I ; 
'  he'll  eat  me  clar  out  o'  house  an'  home ! '  says  I. 
But,  arter  all,  it  done  my  ol'  heart  good  to  see  him  put 
in,  ebery  ting  'peared  to  taste  so  d'effle  good  to  him ! " 
And  Toby  chuckled  at  the  reminiscence. 

"  My  daughter,"  said  Mr.  Villars,  softly. 


CARL    AND    HIS  FRIENDS.  53 

She  was  already  standing  behind  his  chair,  and  her 
trembling  little  hands  were  smoothing  his  brow,  and  her 
earnest  face  was  looking  pale  and  abstracted  over  him. 
He  could  not  see  her  face,  but  he  knew  by  her  touch 
that  the  tender  act  was  done  some  how  mechanically 
to-night,  and  that  she  was  thinking  of  other  things. 
She  started  as  he  spoke,  and,  bending  over  him,  kissed 
his  white  forehead. 

"  I  suspect,"  he  went  on,  "  that  you  know  more  of 
Carl  than  we  do.  Has  he  gone  on  some  errand  of 
yours  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you,  father  !  ''  It  seemed  as  if  her  feel- 
ings had  been  long  repressed,  and  it  was  a  relief  for  her 
to  speak  at  last.  "  Carl  came  to  me,  and  said  there 
was  some  mischief  intended  towards  Penn.  This  was 
long  before  dark.  And  he  asked  permission  to  go  and 
see  what  it  was.  I  said,  '  Go,  but  come  right  back, 
if  there  is  no  danger.'  He  went,  and  I  have  not  seen 
him  since." 

"  Is   this   so  ?    Why  didn't  you   tell  me   before  ?  " 

"  Because,  father,  I  did  not  wish  to  make  you  anxious. 
But  now,  if  you  will  let  Toby  go " 

"I'll  go  myself!"  said  the  old  man,  starting  up. 
"  My  staff,  Toby  !  When  I  was  out,  I  heard  voices  in 
the  direction  of  the  school-house,  —  I  felt  then  a  pre- 
sentiment that  something  was  happening  to  Penn.  I 
can  control  the  mob,  —  I  can  save  him,  if  it  is  not  too 
late."  He  grasped  the  staff  Toby  put  into  his  hand 


54  CARL    AND    HIS    FRIENDS, 

"  O,  father ! "  said  the  agitated  girl ;  "are  you 
able?" 

"  Able,  child  ?  You  shall  see  how  strong  I  am  when 
our  friend  is  in  danger." 

"  Let  me  go,  then,  and  guide  you ! "  she  exclaimed, 
glad  he  was  so  resolved,  yet  unwilling  to  trust  him  out 
of  her  sight. 

"  No,  daughter.  Toby  will  be  eyes  for  me.  Yet  I 
scarcely  need  even  him.  I  can  find  my  way  as  well  as 
he  can  in  the  dark." 

The  negro  opened  the  door,  and  was  leading  out  the 
blind  old  minister,  when  the  light  from  within  fell 
upon  a  singular  object  approaching  the  house.  It  started 
back  again,  like  some  guilty  thing ;  but  Toby  had  seen 
it.  Toby  uttered  a  shriek. 

"  De  debil !  de  debil  hisself,  massa !  "  and  he  pulled 
the  old  man  back  hurriedly  into  the  house. 

"  The  devil,  Toby  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded 
Mr.  Villars. 

"  O,  laws,  bress  ye,  massa,  ye  hain't  got  no  eyes,  and 
ye  can't  see  !  "  said  Toby,  shutting  the  door  in  his  fright, 
and  rolling  his  eyes  wildly.  "  It's  de  bery  debil !  he's 
come  for  dis  niggah  dis  time,  sartin'.  Cos  I,  cos  I 
'pealed  to  him,  as  you  said,  massa  !  cos  I's  got  de  habit 
ob  speakin'  his  name  widout  no  kind  o'  respec'  !  " 

And  he  stood  bracing  himself,  with  his  back  against 
the  door,  as  if  determined  that  not  even  that  powerful 
individual  himself  should  get  in. 


CARL   AND   RIS   FRIENDS.  56 

"  You  poor  old  simpleton  !  "  said  Mr.  Villars,  "  there 
is  no  fiend  except  in  your  own  imagination.  Open  the 
door !  " 

"  No,  no,  massa !  He's  dar !  he's  dar !  He'll  cotch 
old  Toby,  shore!"  And  the  terrified  black  held  the 
latch  and  pushed  with  all  his  might. 

"  What  did  he  see,  Virginia  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  father !  There  was  certainly  some- 
body, or  something,  —  I  could  not  distinguish  what." 

"  It's  what  I  tell  ye  !  "  gibbered  Toby.  "  I  seed  de 
great  coarse  bar  on  his  speckled  legs,  and  de  wings  on 
his  back,  and  a  right  smart  bag  in  his  hand  to  put  dis 
niggah  in !  ' 

"  It  might  have   been   Carl,"    said  Virginia. 

"  No,  no !  Carl  don't  hab  sech  legs  as  dem  ar ! 
Carl  don't  hab  sech  great  big  large  ears  as  dem  ar ! 
O  good  Lord !  good  Lord ! "  the  negro's  voice  sank 
to  a  terrified  whisper,  "  he's  a-knockin'  for  me  now !  " 

"  It's  a  very  gentle  rap  for  the  devil,"  said  Mr. 
Villars,  who  could  not  but  be  amused,  notwithstanding 
the  strange  interruption  of  his  purpose,  and  Toby's  vexa- 
tious obstinacy  in  holding  the  door.  "It's  some  stran- 
ger ;  let  him  in  !  " 

"  No,  no,  no !  "  gasped  the  negro.  "  I  won't  say 
nuffin,  and  you  tell  him  I  ain't  to  home  !  Say  Fse  clar'd 
nut,  lef,  gone  you  do'no'  whar  !  " 

"  Toby !  "  was  called  from  without. 

""  Pat's  his  voice !     dat   ar's  his   voice  !  "    said   Toby. 


56  CARL   AND   HIS   FRIENDS. 

And  in  his  desperate  pushing,  he  pushed  his  feet  from 
under  him,  and  fell  at  full  length  along  the  floor. 

"It's  the  voice  of  Penn  Hapgood !  "  exclaimed  the 
old  minister.  "  Arise,  quick,  Toby,  and  open !  " 

Toby  rubbed  his  head  and  looked  bewildered. 

"  Are  ye  sartin  ob  dat,  massa  ?  Bress  me,  I  breeve 
you're  right,  for  oncet !  It  ar  Mass'  Penn's  voice,  shore 
enough ! " 

He  opened  the  door,  but  started  back  again  with 
another  shriek,  convinced  for  an  instant  that  it  was, 
after  all,  the  devil,  who  had  artfully  borrowed  Penn's 
voice  to  deceive  him. 

But  no !  It  was  Penn  himself,  his  hat  and  clothes 
in  his  hand,  smeared  with  black  tar  and  covered  with 
feathers  from  head  to  foot ;  not  even  his  features  spared, 
nor  yet  his  hair;  on  his  cheeks  great  clumps  of  gray 
goose  plumes,  suggestive  of  diabolical  ears,  and  with 
no  other  covering  but  this  to  shield  him  from  the  night 
wind,  save  the  emptied  bed-tick,  which  he  had  drawn 
over  his  shoulders,  and  which  Toby  had  mistaken  for 
Satanic  wings. 


STRANGE    COAT  FOR   A    QUAKER.  57 


VI. 

A   STEANGE    COAT  FOE  A    QUAKER. 


OW,  Virginia  Villars  was  the  very  last  per- 
son by  whom  Penn  would  have  wished  to 
be  seen.  He  was  well  aware  how  utterly 
grotesque  and  ludicrous  he  must  appear.  But  he  was 
not  in  a  condition  to  be  very  fastidious  on  this  point. 
Stunned  by  blows,  stripped  of  his  clothing  (which  could 
not  be  put  on  again,  for  reasons),  cruelly  suffering  from 
the  violence  done  him,  exposed  to  the  cold,  excluded  from 
Mrs.  Sprowl's  virtuous  abode,  he  had  no  choice  but  to 
seek  the  protection  of  those  whom  he  believed  to  be  his 
truest  friends. 

In  the  little  sitting-room  of  the  blind  old  minister  he 
had  always  been  gladly  welcomed.  Such  minds  as  his 
were  rare  in  Curryville.  His  purity  of  thought,  his 
Christian  charity,  his  ardent  love  of  justice,  and  (quite  as 
much  as  any  thing)  his  delight  in  the  free  and  friendly 
discussion  of  principles,  whether  moral,  political,  or 
theological,  made  him  a  great  favorite  with  the  lonely 


58  A    STRANGE    COAT  FOR   A    QUAKER. 

old  man.  His  coming  made  the  winter  evenings  bloom. 
Then  the  aged  clergyman,  deprived  of  sight,  bereft  of  the 
companionship  of  books,  and  of  the  varied  consolations 
of  an  active  life,  felt  his  heart  warmed  and  his  brain  en- 
livened by  the  wine  of  conversation.  He  and  Penn,  to 
be  sure,  did  not  always  agree.  Especially  on  the  subject 
of  non-resistance  they  had  many  warm  and  well-con- 
tested arguments  ;  the  young  Quaker  manifesting,  by  his 
zeal  in  the  controversy,  that  he  had  an  abundance  of 
"  fight  "  in  him  without  knowing  it. 

Nor  to  Mr.  Villars  alone  did  Penn's  visits  bring 
pleasure.  They  delighted  equally  young  Carl  and  old 
Toby.  And  Virginia  ?  Why,  being  altogether  devoted 
to  her  blind  parent,  for  whose  happiness  she  could 
never  do  enough,  she  was,  of  course,  enchanted  with 
the  attentions  she  saw  Pena  pay  him.  That  was  all; 
at  least,  the  dear  girl  thought  that  was  all. 

As  for  Salina,  forsaken  spouse  of  the  gay  Lysander 
Sprowl,  she  too,  after  sulkily  brooding  over  her  mis- 
fortunes all  day,  was  glad  enough  to  have  any  intelli- 
gent person  come  in  and  break  the  monotony  of  her 
sad  life  in  the  evening. 

Such  were  Penn's  relations  with  the  family  to  whom 
alone  he  durst  apply  for  refuge  in  his  distress.  Others 
might  indeed  have  ventured  to  shelter  him  ;  but  they, 
like  Stackridge,  were  hated  Unionists,  and  any  mercy 
shown  to  him  would  have  brought  evil  upon  them- 
selves. Mr.  Villars,  however,  blind  and  venerated  old 


A    STRANGE    COAT  FOR   A    QUAKER.  59 

man,  bad  sufficient  influence  over  the  people,  Penn  be- 
lieved, to  serve  as  a  protection  to  his  household  even 
•with  him  in  it. 

So  hither  he  came  —  how  unwillingly  let  the  proud 
and  sensitive  judge.  For  Penn,  though  belonging  to 
the  meekest  of  sects,  was  of  a  soul  by  nature  aspiring 
and  proud.  He  had  the  good  sense  to  know  that  the 
outrage  committed  on  him  was  in  reality  no  disgrace, 
except  to  those  guilty  of  perpetrating  it.  Yet  no  one 
likes  to  appear  ridiculous.  And  the  man  of  elevated 
spirit  instinctively  shrinks  from  making  known  his  mis- 
fortunes even  to  his  best  friends ;  he  is  ashamed  of  that 
for  which  he  is  in  no  sense  to  blame^  and  he  would  rather 
suffer  heroically  in  secret,  than  become  an  object  of 

Pity- 
Most  of  all,  as  I  have  said,  Penn  dreaded  the  pure 
Virginia's  eyes.  Mr.  Villars  could  not  see  him,  and  for 
Salina  he  did  not  care  much  —  singularly  enough,  for  she 
alone  was  of  an  acrid  and  sarcastic  temper.  What  he 
devoutly  desired  was,  to  creep  quietly  to  the  kitchen 
door,  call  out  Carl  if  he  was  there,  or  secretly  make 
known  his  condition  to  old  Toby,  and  thus  obtain  admis- 
sion to  the  house,  seclusion,  and  assistance,  without 
letting  Virginia,  or  her  father  even,  know  of  his  pres- 
ence. 

How  this  honest  wish  was  thwarted  we  have  seen. 
When  the  door  was  first  opened,  he  had  turned  to  fly. 
But  that  was  cowardly ;  so  he  returned,  and  knocked,  and 


60  A    STRANGE    COAT  FOB   A    QUAKER. 

called  the  negro  by  name,  to  reassure  him.  And  the 
door  was  once  more  opened,  and  Virginia  saw  him  — 
recognized  him  —  knew  in  an  instant  what  brutal  deed 
had  been  done,  and  covered  her  eyes  instinctively  to  shut 
out  the  hideous  sight. 

But  it  was  no  time  to  indulge  in  feelings  of  false 
modesty,  if  she  felt  any.  It  was  no  time  to  be  weak, 
or  foolish,  or  frightened,  or  ashamed. 

"It  is  Penn !  "  she  exclaimed  in  a  burst  of  indigna- 
tion and  grief.  "  Toby  !  Toby  !  you  great  stupid ! 

what  are  you  staring  for  ?  Take  him  in !  why  don't 
you?  0.  father!"  And  she  threw  herself  on  the  old 
man's  bosom,  and  hid  her  face. 

"  What  has  happened  to  Penn  ? ''  asked  the  old 
man. 

"  I  have  been  tarred- and-feathered,"  answered  Penn, 
entering,  and  closing  the  door  behind  him.  "  And  I 
have  been  shut  out  of  Mrs.  Sprowl's  house.  This  is 
my  excuse  for  coming  here.  I  must  go  somewhere,  you 
know ! " 

"  And  where  but  here  ? "  answered  the  old  man. 
He  had  suppressed  an  outburst  of  feeling,  and  now 
stood  calm,  compassionating,  extending  his  hands,  —  his 
staff  fallen  upon  the  floor.  "  I  feared  it  might  come 
to  this !  Terrible  times  are  upon  us,  and  you  are  only 
one  of  the  first  to  suffer.  You  did  well  to  come  to  us. 
Are  you  hurt?" 

"  I   hardly   know,"    replied    Penn.      "  I   beg   of  you, 


A    STRANGE    COAT  FOR   A    QUAKER.  61 

don't  be  alarmed  or  troubled.  I  hope  you  will  excuse 
me.  I  know  I  am  a  fearful  object  to  look  at,  and  did 
not  intend  to  be  seen." 

He  stood  holding  the  bed-tick  over  him,  and  his 
clothes  before  him,  to  conceal  as  much  as  possible 
his  hideous  guise,  suffering,  in  that  moment  of  pause, 
unutterable  things.  Was  ever  a  hero  of  romance  in 
such  a  dismal  plight  ?  Surely  no  writer  of  fiction  would 
venture  to  show  his  hero  in  so  ridiculous  and  dam- 
aging an  aspect.  But  this  is  not  altogether  a  ro- 
mance, and  I  must  relate  facts  as  they  occurred. 

"  Do  not  be  sorry  that  I  have  seen  you,"  said 
Virginia,  lifting  her  face  again,  flashing  with  tears.  "  I 
see  in  this  shameful  disguise  only  the  shame  of  those 
who  have  so  cruelly  treated  you !  Toby  will  help  you. 
And  there  is  Carl  at  last !  " 

She  retreated  from  the  room  by  one  door  just  as 
Carl  and  Stackridge  entered  by  the  other. 

Poor  Penn  !  gentle  and  shrinking  Penn  !  it  was  pain- 
ful enough  for  him  to  meet  even  these  coarser  eyes, 
friendly  though  they  were.  The  shock  upon  his  system 
had  been  terrible;  and  now,  his  strength  and  reso- 
lution giving  way,  his  bewildered  senses  began  to  reel, 
and  he  swooned  in  the  farmer's  arms. 


62  THE    TWO    GUESTS. 


VII. 


THE   TWO   GUESTS. 


IRGINIA  entered  the  sitting-room  —  the 
same  where  so  many  happy  evenings  had 
been  enjoyed  hy  the  little  family,  in  the 
society  of  him  who  now  lay  bruised,  disfigured,  and 
insensible  in  Toby's  kitchen. 

She  walked  to  and  fro,  she  gazed  from  the  windows 
out  into  the  darkness,  she  threw  herself  on  the  lounge, 
scarce  able  to  control  the  feelings  of  pity  and  indigna- 
tion that  agitated  her.  For  almost  the  first  time  in  her 
life  she  was  fired  with  vindictiveness ;  she  burned  to 
see  some  swift  and  terrible  retribution  overtake  the 
perpetrators  of  this  atrocious  deed. 

Mr.  Villars  soon  came  out  to  her.  She  hastened  to 
lead  him  to  a  seat. 

"  How  is  he  ?  —  much  injured  ?  "    she   asked. 

"  He  has  been  brutally  used,"  .  said  the  old  man. 
"  But  he  is  now  in  good  hands.  Where  is  Salina  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.       I  had  been   to  look  for  her,  when 


THE    TWO    GUE8TS.  63 

I  came  and  found  you  in  the  kitchen  I  fhink  she 
must  have  gone  out." 

"Gone  out,  to-night?  That  is  very  strange!"  The 
old  man  mused.  "  She  will  have  to  \)<>  told  that  Penn 
is  in  the  house.  But  I  think  the  knowledge  of  the 
fact  ought  to  go  no  farther.  Mr.  Stackridge  is  of 
the  same  opinion.  Now  that  they  have  hegun  to 
persecute  him,  they  will  never  cease,  so  long  as  he 
remains  alive  within  their  reach." 

"  And   we   must  conceal  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  until  this  storm  blows  over,  or  he  can  be 
safely  got  out  of  the  state." 

"  There  is  Salina  now  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  hearing 
footsteps  approach  the  piazza. 

"  If  it  is,  she  is  not  alone,"  said  the  old  man,  whose 
blindness  had  rendered  his  hearing  acute.  "  It  is  a 
man's  step.  Don't  be  agitated,  my  child.  Much  de- 
pends on  our  calmness  and  self-possession  now.  If  it 
is  a  visitor,  you  must  admit  him,  and  appear  as  hospi- 
table as  usual." 

It  was  a  visitor,  and  he  came  alone  —  a  young  fellow 
of  dashy  appearance,  handsome  black  hair  and  whiskers, 
and  very  black  eyes. 

"  Mr.  Bythewood,  father,"  said  Virginia,  showing  him 
immediately  into  the  sitting-room. 

"  I  entreat  you,  do  not  rise  ! "  said  Mr.  Bythewood, 
with  exceeding  affability,  hastening  to  prevent  that  act 
of  politeness  on  the  part  of  the  blind  old  man. 


64  THE    TWO    GUESTS. 

"  Did  you  not  bring  my  daughter  with  you  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Vfflars. 

"  Your  daughter  is  here,  sir ; "  and  he  of  the  hand- 
some whiskers  gave  Virginia  a  most  captivating  bow 
and  smile. 

"  He  means  my  sister,"  said  Virginia.  "  She  has 
gone  out,  and  we  are  feeling  somewhat  anxious  aboul 
her."  She  thought  it  best  to  say  thus  much,  in  order 
that,  should  the  visitor  perceive  any  strangeness  or  ab- 
straction on  her  part,  he  might  think  it  was  caused  by 
solicitude  for  the  absent  Salina. 

"  Nothing  can  have  happened  to  her,  certainly,"  re- 
marked Mr.  Bythewood,  seating  himself  in  an  attitude 
of  luxurious  ease,  approaching  almost  to  indolent  reck- 
lessness. "  We  are  the  most  chivalrous  people  in  the 
world.  There  is  no  people,  I  think,  on  the  face  of  the 
globe,  among  whom  the  innocent  and  defenceless  are 
so  perfectly  secure." 

Virginia  thought  of  the  hapless  victim  of  the  mob 
in  the  kitchen  yonder,  and  smiled  politely. 

"  I  have  no  very  great  fears  for  her  safety,"  said  the 
old  man.  "  Yet  I  have  felt  some  anxiety  to  know  the 
meaning  of  the  noises  I  heard  in  the  direction  of  the 
academy,  an  hour  ago." 

Bythewood  laughed,  and  stroked  his  glossy  mustache. 

"  I  don't  know,  sir.  I  reckon,  however,  that  the 
Yankee  schoolmaster  has  been  favored  with  a  little 
demonstration  of  southern  sentiment." 


THE    TWO    GUESTS.  65 

"  How  !    not  mobbed  ?  " 

"  Call  it  what  you  please,  sir,"  said  Bythewood,  with 
an  air  of  pleasantry.  "  I  think  our  people  have  been 
roused  at  last ;  and  if  so,  they  have  probably  given  him 
a  lesson  he  will  never  forget." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  our  people '  ?  "  the  old  man 
gravely  inquired. 

"  He  means,"  said  Virginia,  with  quiet  but  cutting 
irony,  "  the  most  chivalrous  people  in  the  world  !  among 
whom  the  innocent  and  defenceless  are  more  secure  than 
any  where  else  on  the  globe  ! " 

"  Precisely,"  said  Mr.  Bythewood,  with  a  placid 
smile.  "  But  among  whom  obnoxious  persons,  dangerous 
to  our  institutions,  cannot  be  tolerated.  As  for  this 
affair,"  —  carelessly,  as  if  what  had  happened  to  Penn 
was  of  no  particular  consequence  to  anybody  present, 
least  of  all  to  him,  —  "I  don't  know  anything  about  it. 
Of  course,  I  would  never  go  near  a  popular  demonstra- 
tion of  the  kind.  I  don't  say  I  approve  of  it,  and  I 
don't  say  I  disapprove  of  it.  These  are  no  ordinary 
times,  Mr.  Villars.  The  south  is  already  plunged  into  a 
revolution." 

"  Indeed,  I  fear  so  !  " 

"  Fear  so  :  I  glory  that  it  is  so !  We  are  about  to 
build  up  the  most  magnificent  empire  on  which  the  sun 
has  ever  shone  !  " 

"  Cemented  with  the  blood  of  our   own   brethren ! ' 
said  the  old  man,  solemnly. 
6* 


66  THE    TWO    GUESTS. 

"  There  may  be  a  little  bloodshed,  but  not  much. 
The  Yankees  won't  fight.  They  are  not  a  military  peo- 
ple. Their  armies  will  scatter  before  us  like  chaff  before 
the  wind.  I  know  you  don't  think  as  I  do.  I  respect 
the  lingering  attachment  you  feel  for  the  old  Union  — 
it  is  very  natural,"  said  Bythewood,  indulgently. 

The  old  man  smiled.  His  eyes  were  closed,  and  his 
hands  were  folded  before  him  near  his  breast,  in  his 
favorite  attitude.  And  he  answered, — 

"  You  are  very  tolerant  towards  me,  my  young  friend. 
It  is  because  you  consider  me  old,  and  helpless,  and 
perhaps  a  little  childish,  no  doubt.  But  hear  my  words. 
You  are  going  to  build  up  a  magnificent  empire,  founded 
on  —  slavery.  But  I  tell  you,  the  ruin  and  desolation  of 
our  dear  country  —  that  will  be  your  empire.  And  as  for 
the  institution  you  mean  to  perpetuate  and  strengthen, 
it  will  be  crushed  to  atoms  between  the  upper  and  nether 
millstones  of  the  war  you  are  bringing  upon  the  nation." 

He  spoke  with  the  power  of  deep  and  earnest  con- 
viction, and  the  complacent  Bythewood  was  for  a  moment 
abashed. 

"  I  was  well  aware  of  your  opinions,"  he  remarked, 
rallying  presently.  "  It  is  useless  for  us  to  argue  the 
point.  And  Virginia,  I  conceive,  does  not  like  politics. 
Will  you  favor  us  with  a  song,  Virginia  ?  " 

"  With  pleasure,  if  you  wish  it,"  said  Virginia,  with 
perfect  civility,  although  a  close  observer  might  have  seen 
iiow  repulsive  to  her  was  the  presence  of  this  handsome, 


THE   TWO    QUESTS.  67 

but  selfish  and  unprincipled  man.  He  was  their  guest ; 
and  she  had  been  bred  to  habits  of  generous  and  self- 
sacrificing  hospitality.  However  detested  a  visitor,  he 
must  be  politely  entertained.  On  this  occasion,  she  led 
the  way  to  the  parlor,  where  the  piano  was,  —  all  the 
more  readily,  perhaps,  because  it  was  still  farther  re- 
moved from  the  kitchen.  Bythewood  followed,  support- 
ing, with  an  ostentatious  show  of  solicitude,  the  steps  of 
the  feeble  old  man. 

Bythewood  named  the  pieces  he  wished  her  to  sing, 
and  bent  graciously  over  the  piano  to  turn  the  music- 
leaves  for  her,  and  applauded  with  enthusiasm.  And  so 
she  entertained  him.  And  all  the  while  were  passing 
around  them  scenes  so  very  different !  There  was  Penn, 
heroically  stifling  the  groans  of  a  wounded  spirit,  within 
sound  of  her  sweet  voice,  and  Bythewood  so  utterly  igno- 
rant of  his  presence  there  !  A  little  farther  off,  and  just 
outside  the  house,  a  young  woman  was  even  then  parting, 
with  whispers  and  mystery,  from  an  adventurous  rover. 
Still  a  little  farther,  in  barber  Jim's  back  room,  Silas 
Hopes  was  treating  his  accomplices ;  and  while  these 
drank  and  blasphemed,  close  by,  in  the  secret  cellar, 
Stackridge's  companions  were  practising  the  soldier's 
drill. 

Saliua  parted  from  the  rover,  and  came  into  the  house 
while  Virginia  was  singing,  throwing  her  bonnet  negli- 
gently back,  as  she  sat  down. 

"  Why,  Salina  !   where   have  you   been  ? "    said  Vir- 


68  THE    TWO    GUESTS. 

ginia,  finishing  a  strain,  and  turning  eagerly  on  the 
piano  stool.  "We  have  been  wondering  what  had 
become  of  you  !  " 

"  You  need  never  wonder  about  me,"  said  Salina, 
coldly.  "  I  must  go  out  and  walk,  even  if  I  don't 
have  time  till  after  dark." 

She  drummed  upon  the  carpet  with  her  foot,  while 
her  upper  lip  twitched  nervously.  It  was  a  rather  short 
lip,  and  she  had  an  unconscious  habit  of  hitching  up 
one  corner  of  it,  still  more  closely,  with  a  spiteful  and 
impatient  expression.  Aside  from  this  labial  peculiarity 
(and  perhaps  the  disproportionate  prominence  of  a  very 
large  white  forehead),  her  features  were  pretty  enough, 
although  they  lacked  the  charming  freshness  of  her 
younger  sister's. 

Virginia  knew  well  that  the  pretence  of  not  getting 
time  for  her  walk  till  after  dark  was  absurd,  but,  per- 
ceiving the  unhappy  mood  she  was  in,  forbore  to  say 
so.  And  she  resumed  her  task  of  entertaining  Bythe- 
wood. 


THE   ROVES. 


VIII. 


THE  ROVER. 


EAN WHILE  the  nocturnal  acquaintance 
from  whom  Salina  had  parted  took  a  last 
look  at  the  house,  and  shook  his  envious 
head  darkly  at  the  room  where  the  light  and  the  music 
were ;  then,  thrusting  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  with  a 
swaggering  air,  went  plodding  on  his  lonely  way  across 
the  fields,  in  the  starlight. 

The  direction  he  took  was  that  from  which  Penn 
had  arrived ;  and  in  the  course  of  twenty  minutes  he 
approached  the  door  of  the  solitary  house  with  the  dark 
windows  and  the  dogs  within.  He  walked  all  around, 
and  seeing  no  light,  nor  any  indication  of  life,  drew 
near,  and  rapped  softly  on  a  pane. 

The  dogs  were  roused  in  an  instant,  and  barked 
furiously.  Nothing  daunted,  he  waited  for  a  lull  in  the 
storm  he  had  raised,  and  rapped  again. 

"  Who's  there  ? "  creaked  the  stridulous  voice  of 
good  Mrs.  Sprowl. 


70  THE    ROVES. 

'*  You  know  ! "  said  the  rover,  in  a  suppressed,  con- 
fidential tone.  "  One  who  has  a  right." 

Now,  the  excellent  relict  of  the  late  lamented  Sprowl 
reflected,  naturally,  that,  if  anybody  had  a  right  there,  it 
was  he  who  paid  her  for  his  board  in  advance. 

"  You,  agin,  after  all,  is  it ! "  she  exclaimed,  angrily. 
"  Couldn't  you  find  nowhere  else  to  go  to  ?  But  if  you 
imagine  I've  thought  better  on't,  and  will  let  you  in, 
you're  grandly  mistaken !  Go  away  this  instant,  or  I'll 
let  the  dogs  out !  " 

"  Let  'em  out,  and  be  !  " 

No  matter  about  the  last  word  of  the  rover's  defiant 
answer.  It  was  a  very  irritating  word  to  the  temper 
of  the  good  Mrs.  Sprowl.  This  was  the  first  time  (she 
thought)  she  had  ever  heard  the  mild  and  benignant 
schoolmaster  swear  ;  but  she  was  not  much  surprised, 
believing  that  it  was  scarcely  in  the  power  of  man  to 
endure  what  he  had  that  night  endured,  and  not  swear. 

"  Look  out  for  yourself  then,  you  sir !  for  I  shall 
take  you  at  your  word ! "  And  there  was  a  sound  of 
slipping  bolts,  followed  by  the  careful  opening  of  the 
door. 

Out  bounced  the  dogs,  and  leaped  upon  the  intruder ; 
but,  instead  of  tearing  him  to  pieces,  they  fell  to 
caressing  him  in  the  most  vivacious  and  triumphant 
manner. 

"  Down,  Brag  !  Off,  Grip  !  Curse  you  !  "  And  he 
kicked  them  till  they  yelped,  for  their  too  fond  welcome. 


THE   ROVER.  71 

"  How  dare  you,  sir,  use  my  dogs  so  !  "  screamed 
the  lady  within,  enraged  to  think  they  had  permitted  that 
miserable  schoolmaster  to  get  the  better  of  them. 

"  I'll  kick  them,  and  you  too,  for  this  trick ! "  mut- 
tered the  man.  "  I'll  learn  ye  to  shut  me  out,  and 
make  a  row,  when  I'm  coming  to  see  you  at  the  risk 
of  my " 

She  cut  him  short,  with  a  cry  of  amazement. 

"  Lysander  !   is  it  you  !  " 

"  Hold  your  noise !  "  said  Lysander,  pressing  into  the 
house.  "Call  my  name  again,  and  I'll  choke  you! 
Where's  your  schoolmaster  ?  Won't  he  hear  ? " 

"  Dear  me !  if  it  don't  beat  everything !  "  said  Mrs. 
Sprowl,  in  palpitating  accents.  "  Don't  you  know  I 
took  you  for  the  master !  " 

"  No,  I  didn't  know  it.  This  looks  more  like  a 
welcome,  though ! "  Lysander  began  to  be  mollified. 
"  There,  there !  don't  smother  a  fellow  !  One  kiss  is 
as  good  as  fifty.  The  master  is  out,  then?  Anybody 
in  the  house  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  so  thankful !  It  seems  quite  providential ', 
O,  dearie,  dearie,  sonny  dearie  !  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you 
agin !  " 

''  Come  !  none  of  your  sonny  dearies  I  it  makes  me 
sick !  Strike  a  light,  and  get  me  some  supper,  can't 
you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  boy,  with  all  my  heart !  This  is  the  hap 
piest  day  I've  seen " 


72  THE   ROVER. 

"  Ah,  what's  happened  to-day  ? "  said  Lysander, 
treating  with  levity  his  mother's  blissful  confession. 

"  I  mean,  this  night !  to  have  you  back  again !  How 
could  I  mistake  you  for  that  dreadful  schoolmaster !  * 
Here  her  trembling  fingers  struck  a  match. 

"  Draw  the  curtains,"  said  Lysander,  hastily  executing 
his  own  order,  as  the  blue  sputter  kindled  up  into  a 
flame  that  lighted  the  room.  "  It  ain't  quite  time  for 
me  to  be  seen  here  yet." 

"  Where  did  you  come  from  ?  What  are  you  here 
for  ?  O,  my  dear,  dear  Lysie ! "  (she  gazed  at  him 
affectionately),  "  you  ain't  in  no  great  danger,  be 
you  ? " 

"  That  depends.  Soon  as  Tennessee  secedes,  I  shall 
be  safe  enough.  I'm  going  to  have  a  commission  in 
the  Confederate  army,  and  that  '11  be  protection  from 
anything  that  might  happen  on  account  of  old  scores. 
I'm  going  to  raise  a  company  in  this  very  place,  and 
let  the  law  touch  me  if  it  can ! " 

He  tossed  his  cap  into  a  corner,  and  sprawled  apon 
a  chair  before  the  stove,  at  which  his  devoted  mother 
was  already  blowing  her  breath  away  in  the  endeavor 
to  kindle  a  blaze.  She  stopped  blowing  to  gape  at 
his  good  news,  turning  up  at  him  her  low,  skinny 
forehead,  narrow  nose,  and  close-set,  winking  eyes. 

"  There  !  I  declare  !  "  said  she.  "  I  knowed  my 
boy  would  come  back  to  me  some  day  a  gentle- 
man ! " 


THE   ROVER.  £3 

"  A  gentleman  ?  I'm  bound  to  be  that  ! "  said  the 
man,  with  a  braggart  laugh  and  swagger.  "  I  tell  yc, 
mar,  we're  going  to  have  the  greatest  confederacy 
ever  was ! " 

"  Do  tell  if  we  be !  "    said  the  edified  "  mar." 

"  Six  months  from  now,  you'll  see  the  Yankees  grovel- 
ling at  our  feet,  begging  for  admission  along  with  us. 
We'll  have  Washington,  and  all  of  the  north  we  want, 
and  defy  the  world  !  " 

"  I  want  to  know  now !  "  said  Mrs.  Sprowl,  over- 
come with  admiration. 

"  The  slave-trade  will  be  reopened,  Yankee  ships  will 
bring  us  cargoes  of  splendid  niggers,  not  a  man  in  the 
south  but  '11  be  able  to  own  three  or  four,  they'll  be 
so  cheap,  and  we'll  be  so  rich,  you  see,"  said  Ly- 
sander. 

"  You  don't  say,  re'lly  !  " 

"  That's  the  programme,  mar !  You'll  see  it  all  with 
your  own  eyes  in  six  months." 

"  Why,  then,  why  shouldn't  the  south  secede  !  "  re- 
plied "  mar,"  hastening  to  put  on  the  tea-kettle,  and 
then  to  mix  up  a  corn  dodger  for  her  son's  supper. 
"  I'm  sure,  we  ought  all  on  us  to  have  our  servants, 
and  live  without  work ;  and  I  knowed  all  the  time  there 
was  another  side  to  what  Penn  Hapgood  preaches  (for 
he's  dead  set  agin'  secession),  though  I  couldn't  answer 
him  as  you  could,  Lysie  dear  ! " 

"  Wai,  never  mind  all  that,  but  hurry  up  the  grub  I  " 
1 


74  THE  ROVER. 

said  "  Lysie  dear,"  putting  sticks  in  the  stove.  "  1 
hain't  had  a  mouthful  since  breakfast." 

"  You  hain't  seen  her,  of  course,"  observed  Mrs. 
Sprowl,  mysteriously. 

"  Her  ?    who  :  " 

"  Salina !  "  in  a  whisper,  as  if  to  be  overheard  by  a 
mouse  in  the  wall  would  have  been  fatal. 

"  Wai,  I  have  seen  her,  I  reckon !  Not  an  hour 
ago.  By  appointment.  I  wrote  her  I  was  coming,  got 
a  woman  to  direct  the  letter,  and  had  a  long  talk 
with  her  to-night.  What  I  want  just  now  is,  a  little 
money,  and  she's  got  to  raise  it  for  me,  and  what  she 
can't  raise  I  shall  look  to  you  for." 

"  O  dear  me  !  don't  say  money  to  me !  "  exclaimed 
the  widow,  alarmed.  "  Partic'larly  now  I've  lost  my 
best  feather-bed  and  my  boarder ! " 

"  What  is  it  about  your  boarder  ?  Out  with  it,  and 
stop  this  hinting  around  !  " 

Thus  prompted,  Mrs.  Sprowl,  who  had  indeed  been 
waiting  for  the  opportunity,  related  all  she  knew  of 
what  had  happened  to  Penn.  Lysander  kindled  up  with 
interest  as  she  proceeded,  and  finally  broke  forth  with  a 
startling  oath. 

"  And  I  can  tell  you  where  he  has  gone  ! "  he  said 
"  He's  gone  to  the  house  I  can't  get  into  for  love  noi 
money  !  She  refused  me  admission  to-night  —  refused 
me  money !  but  he  is  taken  in,  and  their  money  will  be 
lavished  on  him  !  " 


THE   ROVER.  75 

"  But  how  do  you  know,  my  son, " 

"  How  do  I  know  he's  there  ?  Because,  when  I  was 
with  her  in  the  orchard,  we  saw  an  object  —  she  said  it 
was  some  old  nigger  to  see  Toby  —  go  into  the  kitchen. 
Then  in  a  little  while  a  man  —  it  must  have  been  Stack- 
ridge,  if  you  say  he  was  looking  for  him  —  went  in  with 
Carl,  and  didn't  come  out  again,  as  I  could  see.  I  staid 
till  the  light  from  the  kitchen  went  up  into  the  bedroom, 
in  the  corner  of  the  house  this  way.  There's  yer  boarder, 
mar,  I'll  bet  my  life  !  But  he  won't  be  there  long,  I 
can  tell  ye ! "  laughed  Lysander,  maliciously. 


76'  TOBY'k!   PATIENT  HAS    A    CALLER 


IX. 


TOBY'S  PATIENT  HAS  A    CALLER, 


R.    BYTHEWOOD    had    now  taken    his 
departure  ;    Salina  had   been    intrusted  with 

the  secret ;  and  Penn  had  been  put  to  bed 
(as  the  rover  correctly  surmised)  in  the  corner  bed- 
chamber. 

He  had  been  diligently  plucked  ;  as  much  of  the  tar 
had  been  removed  as  could  be  easily  taken  off  by 
methods  known  to  Stackridge  and  Toby,  and  his  wounds 
had  been  dressed.  And  there  he  lay,  at  last,  in  the 
soothing  linen,  exhausted  and  suffering,  yet  somehow 
happy,  thinking  with  gratitude  of  the  friends  God  had 
given  him  in  his  sore  need. 

"  Bress  your  heart,  dear  young  massa ! "  said  old 
Toby,  standing  by  the  bed  (for  he  would  not  sit  down), 
and  regarding  him  with  an  unlimited  variety  of  winks, 
and  nods,  and  grins,  expressive  of  satisfaction  with  his 
work ;  "  ye're  jest  as  comf  table  now  us  -\m  possible 
under  de  sarcumstances.  If  dar's  anyting  in  dis  y<w 


TOSY'S   PATIENT  HAS  A    CALLER.  77 

world  ye  wants  now,  say  de  word,  and  ol'  Toby '11 
jump  at  de  chance  to  fetch  'em  fur  ye." 

"  There  is  nothing  I  want  now,  good  Toby,  but  that 
you  and  Carl  should  rest.  You  have  done  everything 
you  can  —  and  far  more  than  I  deserve.  I  will  try  to 
thank  you  when  I  am  stronger." 

"  Can't  tink  ob  quittin'  ye  dis  yer  night,  nohow,  mas- 
sa  !  Mr.  Stackridge  he's  gone  ;  Carl  he  can  go  to  bed, — 
he  ain't  no  'count  here,  no  way.  But  I'se  took  de  job 
o'  gitt'n  you  well,  Mass'  Penn,  and  I'se  gwine  to  put 
it  frew  'pon  honor,  —  do  it  up  han'some  !  " 

And  notwithstanding  Penn's  remonstrances,  the  faith- 
ful black  absolutely  refused  to  leave  him.  Indeed,  the 
most  he  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  do  for  his  own  com- 
fort, was  to  bring  his  blanket  into  the  room,  and  promise 
that  he  would  lie  down  upon  it  when  he  felt  sleepy. 
Whether  he  kept  his  word  or  not,  I  cannot  say ;  but 
there  was  no  time  during  the  night  when,  if  Penn  hap- 
pened to  stir  uneasily,  he  did  not  see  the  earnest,  tender, 
cheerful  black  face  at  his  pillow  in  an  instant,  and  hear 
the  affectionate  voige  softly  inquire,  — 

"  What  can  I  do  fur  ye,  massa  ?  Ain't  dar  nuffin 
ol'  Toby  can  be  a  doin'  fur  ye,  jes'  to  pass  away  de 
time  ? " 

Sometimes  it  was  water  Penn  wanted  ;  but  it  did  him 
really  more  good  to  witness  the  delight  it  gave  Toby 
to  wait  upon  him,  than  to  drink  the  coolest  and  mos* 
delicious  draught  fresh  from  the  well. 


78  TOBY'S   PATIENT  HAS   A    CALLER. 

At  length  Penn  began  to  feel  hot  and   stifled. 

"  What  have  you  hung  over  the  window,  Toby  ? " 

"  Dat  ar  ?  'Pears  like  dat  ar's  my  blanket,  sar.  Ye 
see,  'twouldn't  do,  nohow,  to  let  nary  a  chink  o'  light 
be  seen  from  tudder  side,  'cause  dat  'ud  make  folks  s'pec' 
sumfin',  dis  yer  time  o'  night.  So  I  jes'  sticks  up  my  oF 
blanket  —  'pears  like  I  can  sleep  a  heap  better  on  de 
bar  floor !  " 

"  But  I  must  have  some  fresh  air,  you  dear  old  hypo- 
crite ! "  said  Penn,  deeply  touched,  for  he  knew  that  the 
African  had  deprived  himself  of  his  blanket  because  he 
did  not  wish  to  disturb  him  by  leaving  the  room  for 
another. 

"  I'll  fix  him !  I'll  fix  him  ! "  said  Toby.  And  he 
seemed  raised  to  the  very  summit  of  happiness  on 
discovering  that  there  was  something,  requiring  the 
exercise  of  his  ingenuity,  still  to  be  done  for  his 
patient. 

After  that  Penn  slept  a  little.  "  Tank  de  good  Lord," 
said  the  old  negro  the  next  morning,  "  you're  lookin'  as 
chirk  as  can  be !  I'se  a  right  smart  hand  fur  to  be 
nussin'  ob  de  sick  ;  and  sakes  !  how  I  likes  it !  I'se 
gwine  to  hab  you  well,  sar,  'fore  eber  a  soul  knows 
you'se  in  de  house."  Yet  Toby's  -words  expressed  a 
great  deal  more  confidence  than  he  felt ;  for,  though  he 
had  little  apprehension  of  Penn's  retreat  being  discov- 
ered, he  saw  how  weak  and  feverish  he  was,  and  feared 
the  necessity  of  sending  for  a  doctor. 


TOBY'S    PATIENT  HAS  A    CALLER,  79 

Penn  now  insisted  strongly  that  the  old  servant  should 
not  neglect  his  other  duties  for  him. 

"  Now  you  jes'  be  easy  in  yer  mind  on  dat  pint ! 
Dar's  Carl,  tends  to  out-door  'rangements,  and  I'se  got 
him  larnt  so's't  he's  bery  good,  bery  good  indeed,  to 
look  arter  my  cow,  and  my  pigs,  and  sech  like  chores, 
when  I'se  got  more  'portant  tings  on  hand  myself.  And 
dar's  Miss  Jinny,  she's  glad  enough  to  git  de  breakfust 
herself  dis  mornin'  ;  only  jes'  I  kind  o'  keeps  an  eye  on 
her,  so  she  shan't  do  nuffin  wrong.  She  an'  Massa 
Villars  come  to  'quire  bery  partic'lar  'bout  you,  'fore  you 
was  awake,  sar." 

These  simple  words  seemed  to  flood  Penn's  heart 
with  gratitude.  Toby  withdrew,  but  presently  returned, 
bringing  a  salver. 

"  Nuffin  but  a  little  broff,  massa.  And  a  toasted 
cracker." 

"  O,  you  are  too  kind,  Toby  !  Really,  I  can't  eat  this 
morning." 

"  Can't  eat,  sar  ?  I  declar,  now  !  "  (in  a  whisper), 
"  how  disappinted  she'll  be  !  " 

"  Who  will  be  disappointed  ?  " 

"  Who  ?  Miss  Jinny,  to  be  sure  !  She  made  de  broff 
wid  her  own  hands.  Under  my  d'rections,  ob  course ! 
But  she  would  make  'em  herself,  and  took  a  heap  ob 
pains  to  hab  'em  good,  and  put  in  de  salt  wid  her 
own  purty  fingers,  and  looked  as  rosy  a  stirrin'  and 
toastin  ober  de  fire  as  eber  you  see  an  angel,  sar  ! " 


80  TOBY'S   PATIENT  HAS  A    CALLER. 

For  some  reason  Penn  began  to  think  better  of  the 
broth,  and,  to  Toby's  infinite  satisfaction,  he  consented 
to  eat  a  little.  Toby  soon  had  him  bolstered  up  in  bed, 
and  held  the  salver  before  him,  and  looked  a  perfect 
picture  of  epicurean  enjoyment,  just  from  seeing  his 
patient  eat. 

"  It  is  delicious  !  "  said  Penn  ;  at  which  brief  eulogium 
the  whole  rich,  exuberant,  tropical  soul  of  the  unselfish 
African  seemed  to  expand  and  blossom  forth  with  joy. 
"  I  shall  be  sure  to  get  well  and  strong  soon,  under  such 
treatment.  You  must  let  Carl  go  to  Mrs.  Sprowl's  and 
fetch  my  clothes ;  I  shall  want  some  of  them  when  1 
get  up." 

"  Bress  you,  sar !  you  forgets  nobody  ain't  to  know 
whar  you  be  !  Mass'  Villars  he  say  so.  You  jes'  lef ' 
de  clo'es  alone,  yit  awhile.  Wouldn't  hab  dat  ar  Wid- 
der  Sprowl  find  out  you'se  in  dis  yer  house,  not  if  you'd 
gib  me " 

Rap,  rap,  at  the  chamber  door;  two  light,  hurried 
knocks. 

"  Miss  Jinny  herself !  "  said  old  Toby,  forgetting  Mrs. 
Sprowl  in  an  instant.  And  setting  down  the  salver,  he 
ran  to  the  door. 

Penn  heard  quick  whispers  of  consultation  ;  then  Toby 
came  back,  his  eyes  rolling  and  his  ivory  shining  with 
a  ludicrous  expression  of  wrath  and  amazement. 

"  It's  de  bery  ol'  hag  herself !  Speak  de  debil's  name 
and  he's  allus  at  de  door ! " 


TOBY'S   PATIENT  HAS  A    CALLER.  81 

"Who?    Mrs.  Sprowlr" 

"  Yes,  sar !  and  I  wish  she  was  furder,  sar !  She's 
a  'quirin'  fur  you,  —  says  she  knows  you'se  in  de  house, 
and  it's  bery  'portant  she  must  see  ye.  But,  tank  de 
Lord,  massa !  "  chuckled  the  old  negro,  "  CaiTs  forgot 
his  English,  and  don't  know  nuffin  what  she  wants ! 
he,  he,  he  !  Or  if  she  makes  him  und'stan'  one  ting, 
den  he  talks  Dutch,  and  she  don't  und'stan.'  And  so 
dey'se  habin'  it,  fust  one,  den  tudder,  while  Miss  Jinny 
she  hears  'em  and  comes  fur  to  let  us  know.  But 
how  de  ol'  critter  eber  found  you  out,  dat  am  one  ob 
de  mysteries  ! " 

"  She  merely  guesses  I  am  here,"  said  Pcnn.  "  I'm 
only  afraid  Carl  will  overdo  his  part,  and  confirm  her 
suspicions." 

"  'Sh  ! "  hissed  Toby  in  sudden  alarm.  "  She's  a 
comin !  She's  a  comin'  right  up  to  dis  yer  door !  " 
And  he  flew  to  fasten  it. 

He  had  scarcely  done  so  when  a  hand  tried  the 
latch,  and  a  voice  called,  — 

"  Come !  ye  needn't,  none  of  ye,  try  to  impose  on 
me  !  I  knov/  you're  in  this  very  room,  Pcnn  Hap- 
good,  and  you'll  let  me  in,  old  friends  so,  I'm  shore  ! 
I've  bothered  long  enough  with  that  stupid  Dutch  boy, 
and  now  Virginny  wants  to  keep  me,  and  talk  with  me  ; 
but  I've  nothing  to  do  with  nobody  in  this  house  but 
yon  !  " 

Mrs.  Sprowl  had    not    been    on   amicable  terms  with 


82  TOBY'S   PATIENT  HAS  A    CALLER. 

her  daughter-in-law's  family  since  Salina  and  her  hus- 
band separated ;  and  this  last  declaration  she  made 
loud  enough  for  all  in  the  house  to  hear. 

Penn  motioned  for  Toby  to  open  the  door,  believing 
it  the  better  way  to  admit  the  lady  and  conciliate  her. 
But  Toby  shook  his  head  —  and  his  fist  with  grim  de- 
fiance. 

"  Wai ! "  said  Mrs.  Sprowl,  "  you  can  do  as  you 
please  about  lettin'  a  body  in;  but  I'll  give  ye  to 
understand  one  thing — I  don't  stir  a  foot  from  this 
door  till  it's  opened.  And  if  you  want  it  kept  secret 
that  you're  here,  it'll  be  a  great  deal  better  for  you, 
Penn  Hapgood,  to  let  me  in,  than  to  keep  me  standin' 
or  settin'  all  day  on  the  stairs." 

The  idea  of  a  long  siege  struck  Toby  with  dismay. 
He  hesitated  ;  but  Fenn  spoke. 

"  I  am  very  weak,  and  very  ill,  madam.  But  I  have 
learned  what  it  is  to  be  driven  from  a  door  that  should 
be  opened  to  welcome  me  ;  and  I  am  not  willing,  under 
any  circumstances,  to  treat  another  as  you  last  night 
treated  me." 

This  was  spoken  to  the  lady's  face ;  for  Toby,  seeing 
that  concealment  was  at  an  end,  had  slipped  the  bolt, 
and  she  had  come  in. 

"  Wai !  now  !  Mr.  Hapgood !  "  she  began,  with  a 
simper,  which  betrayed  a  little  contrition  and  a  good 
deal  of  crafty  selfishness,  — "  you  mustn't  go  to  bein: 
too  hard  on  me  for  that.  Consider  that  I'm  a  poor 


TOBY'S   PATIENT  HAS  A    CALLER  88 

widder,  and  my  life  war  threatened,  and  I  had  to  do  as 
I  did." 

'•  Well,  well,"  said  Penn,  "  I  certainly  forgive  you. 
Give  her  a  chair,  Toby." 

Toby  placed  the  chair,   and  widow  Sprowl  sat  down. 

"I  couldn't  be  easy  —  old  friends  so  —  till  I  had 
come  over  to  see  how  you  be,"  she  said,  folding  her 
hands,  and  regarding  Penn  with  a  solemn  pucker  of  so- 
licitude. "  I  know,  'twas  a  dreadful  thing  ;  but  it's  some 
comfort  'to  think  it's  nothing  I'm  any  ways  to  blame 
fur.  It's  hard  enough  for  me  to  lose  a  boarder,  jest  at 
this  time,  —  say  nothing  about  a  friend  that's  been 
jest  like  one  of  my  own  family,  and  that  I've  cooked, 
and  washed,  and  ironed  fur,  as  if  he  war  my  own 
son ! " 

And  Mrs.  Sprowl  wiped  her  eyes,  while  she  carefully 
watched  the  effect  of  her  words. 

"  I  acknowledge,  you  have  cooked,  washed,  and 
ironed  for  me  very  faithfully,"  said  Penn. 

"And  I  thought,"  said  she, — "old  friends  so, — 
may  be  you  wouldn't  mind  making  me  a  present  of 
the  trifle  you've  paid  over  and  above  what's  due  for 
your  board  ;  for  I'm  a  poor  widder,  as  you  know,  and 
my  only  son  is  a  wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  'arth." 

Penn  readily  consented  to  make  the  present  —  per- 
haps reflecting  that  it  would  be  equally  impossible  for 
him  ever  to  board  it  out,  or  get  her  to  return  the 
money. 


84  TOUT'S   PATIENT  HA  S   A    CALLER. 

"  Then  there's  that  old  cloak  of  yourn,"  said  Mrs. 
Sprowl,  sympathizingly.  "  I  believe  you  partly  promised 
it  to  me,  didn't  you  ?  I  can  manage  to  get  me  a  cape 
out  on't." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Penn,  "  you  can  have  the  cloak ; " 
while  Toby  glared  with  rage  behind  her  chair. 

"  And  I  considered  'twouldn't  be  no  more'n  fair  that 

you  should  pay  for  the I  don't  see  how  in  the 

world  I  can  afford  to  lose  it,  bein'  a  poor  widder,  and 

live  geeses'  feathers  at  that,  and  my  only  son " 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  apron,  overcome  with  emotion. 

"  What  am  I  to  pay  for  ? "    asked  Penn. 

"  Fur,  you  know,"  she  said,  "  I  never  would  have 
parted  with  it  fur  any  money,  and  it  will  take  at 
least  ten  dollars  to  replace  it,  which  is  hard,  bein'  a 
poor  widder,  and  as  strong  a  linen  tick  as  ever  you 
see,  that  I  made  myself,  and  that  my  blessed  husband 
died  on,  and  helped  me  pick  the  geese  with  his  own 
hands ;  and  I  never  thought,  Avhen  I  took  you  to 
board,  that  ever  that  bed  would  be  sacrificed  by  it, — 
for  'twas  on  your  account,  you  are  ware,  it  was  took 
last  night  and  done  for." 

"  And  you  think  I  ought  to  pay  for  the  bed ! " 
said  Penn,  as  much  astonished  as  if  Silas  Ropes  had 
sent  in  his  bill,  "To  1  coat  tar  &  feathers,  $10.00." 

"  They  said  I  must  look  to  you,"  whined  the  visitor ; 
"  and  if  you  don't  pay  fur't,  I  don't  know  who  will, 
I'm  shore !  for  none  of  them  have  sot  at  my  board, 


TOBY'S   PATIENT  HAS   A    CALLER.  85 

and  drinked  of  my  coffee,  and  e't  of  my  good  corn 
dodgers,  and  slep'  in  my  best  bed,  alt  for  four  dollars 
fifty  a  week,  washing  and  ironing  throwed  in,  and  a 
poor  widder  at  that !  " 

"  Mrs.  Sprowl,"  said  Pvjim,  laughing,  ill  as  he  was, 
"  have  the  kindness  not  to  tell  any  one  that  I  am 
here,  and  as  soon  as  I  am  able  to  do  so,  I  will  pay 
you  for  your  excellent  feather-bed." 

"Thank  you, — very  good  in  you,  I'm  shore!"  said 
the  worthy  creature,  brightening.  "  And  if  there's  any- 
thing else  among  your  things  you  can  spare." 

"  I'll  see  !  I'll  see  !  "  said  Penn,  wearily.  "  Leave 
me  now,  do  !  " 

"But  if  you  had  a  few  dollars,  this  morning,  towards 
the  bed,"  she  insisted,  "  for  my  son "  She  al- 
most betrayed  herself;  being  about  to  say  that  Lysan- 
der  had  arrived,  and  must  have  money ;  but  she  coughed, 
and  added,  in  a  changed  voice,  "  is  a  wanderer  on  the 
face  of  the  'arth." 

Penn,  however,  reflecting  that  she  would  have  more 
encouragement  to  keep  his  secret  if  he  held  the  reward 
in  reserve,  replied,  that  he  could  not  possibly  spare 
any  money  before  collecting  what  was  due  him  from 
the  trustees  of  the  Academy.  Her  countenance  fell 
on  hearing  this  ;  and,  reluctantly  abandoning  the  object 
of  her  mission,  she  took  her  leave,  and  went  home  to 
her  hopeful  son. 


86  THE    WIDOW'S   GREEN   CHEST. 


X. 


THE    WIDOW'S   ORE  EN  CHEST. 


R.  VILLARS  kid  spoken  truly  when  he 
said  Perm's  persecutors  would  not  rest 
here.  In  fact,  Mr.  Ropes,  and  three  of 
his  accomplices,  were  even  now  on  the  way  to  Mrs. 
Sprowl's  abode,  to  make  inquiries  concerning  the 
schoolmaster. 

That  lone  creature  had  scarcely  reached  her  own 
door  when  she  saw  them  coming.  Now,  though 
Penn  was  not  in  the  house,  her  son  was.  Great, 
therefore,  was  her  trepidation  at  the  sight  of  visitors  ; 
and  she  evinced  such  eagerness  to  assure  them  that 
the  object  of  their  pursuit  was  not  there,  and  ap- 
peared altogether  so  frightened  and  guilty,  that  Ropes 
winked  knowingly  at  his  companions,  and  said,  — 

"  He's  here,  boys,  safe  enough." 

So  they  forced  their  way  into  the  house ;  her  in- 
creased tremor  and  confusion  serving  only  to  confirm 
them  in  their  suspicions. 


THE    WIDOWS    GREEN    CHEST.  87 

"  Not  that  we  doubt  your  word  in  the  least,  Mrs. 
Sprowl,'' — Ropes  smiled  sarcastically.  "  But  of  course 
you  can't  object  to  our  searching  the  premises,  for 
we're  in  the  performance  of  a  solemn  dooty.  Any 
whiskey  in  the  house,  widder  r " 

The  obliging  lady  went  to  find  a  bottle.  She  was 
gone  so  long,  however,  that  the  visitors  became  impa- 
tient. Ropes  accordingly  stationed  two  of  his  men 
at  the  doors,  and  with  the  third  went  in  pursuit  of 
Mrs.  Sprowl,  whom  they  met  coming  down  stairs. 

"  Keep  your  liquor  up  there,  do  ye  ? "  said  Ropes, 
significantly. 

"I  —  I  thought  —  "  Mrs.  Sprowl  gasped  for  breath 
before  she  could  proceed  — "  the  master  had  some  in 
his  room.  But  I  can't  find  it.  You  are  at  liberty  to 
—  to  look  in  his  room,  if  you  wants  to." 

"  Wai,  it's  our  dooty  to,  I  suppose.  Meantime,  you 
can  be  bringing  the  whiskey.  Give  some  to  the 
boys  outside,  then  bring  the  bottle  up  to  us.  That's 
the  way,  Gad,"  said  Silas,  as  she  unwillingly  obeyed; 
"  allus  be  perlite  .  to  the  sex,  ye  know." 

"  Sartin  !  allus  !  "  said  Gad. 

It  was  evident  these  men  fancied  themselves  polite. 

"  But  he  ain't  here,"  said  Silas,  just  glancing  into 
Penn's  room,  "  or  else  she  wouldn't  have  been  so 
willing  for  us  to  search.  Le's  begin  at  the  top  of  the 
house,  and  look  along  down."  They  entered  a  low- 
roofed,  empty  garret.  "  As  we  can't  perceed  without 


88  THIS    WIDOW'S   GREEN   CHEST. 

the  whiskey,  we'll  wait  here.  Meantime,  I'll  tell  you 
what  you  wanted  to  know." 

They  sat  down  on  a  little  old  green  chest,  and 
Ropes,  producing  a  plug  of  tobacco,  gave  his  friend  a 
bite,  and  took  a  bite  himself. 

"  What  I'm  going  to  say  is  in  perfect  confidence, 
between  friends  ; "  chewing  and  crossing  his  legs. 

Gad  chewed,  and  crossed  his  legs,  and  said,  "  O, 
of  course !  in  perfect  confidence  !  " 

"  Wai,  then,  I'll  tell  ye  whar  the  money  fur  oui  job 
comes  from.  It  comes  from  Gus  Bythewood." 

"  Sho  !  "  said  Gad,  looking  surprised  at  Silas. 

*'  Fact !  "   said  Silas,  looking  wise  at  Gad. 

"  But   what's  he  so   dead  set  agin'   the   master  fur  ? " 

"  I'll  tell  ye,  Gad."  And  Mr.  Ropes  rested  a  finger 
confidingly  on  his  friend's  knee.  "  Fur  as  I  kin  jedge, 
Gus  has  a  sneakin'  notion  arter  that  voungest  Villars 
gal ;  Virginny,  ye  know." 

"  Don't  blame  him  !  "  chuckled  Gad. 

"  But  ye  see,  thar's  that  Hapgood  ;  he's  a  great  favor- 
yte  with  the  Villarses,  and  Gus  nat'rally  wants  to  git  him 
out  of  the  way.  It  won't  do,  though,  for  him  to  have  it 
known  he  has  any  thing  to  do  with  our  operaticns. 
He  pays  us,  and  backs  us  up  with  plenty  of  cash  if 
we  get  into  trouble ;  but  he  keeps  dark,  you  under- 
stand." 

"  The  master  ought  to  be  hung  for  his  abolitionism  !  " 
said  Gad,  by  way  of  self-excuse  for  being  made  a  jealous 
man's  tool. 


THE    WIDOW'S    GREEN   CHEST,  89 

"  That  ar's  jest  my  sentiment,"  replied  Silas.  "  But 
then  he's  allus  been  a  peaceable  sort  of  chap,  and  held 
his  tongue  ;  so  he  might  have  oeen  let  alone  some  time 
yet,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  — -  -  What  in  time  !  " 

Ropes  started,  and  changed  color,  glancing  first  at  Gad, 
then  down  at  the  chest. 

"  He's  in  it !  "  whispered  Gad. 

Both  jumped  vip,  and,  facing  about,  looked  at  tne 
green  lid,  and  at  each  other. 

The  chest  was  so  small  it  had  not  occurred  to  them 
that  a  man  could  get  into  it.  Lysander  had  got  into  it, 
however,  and  there  he  lay,  so  cramped,  and  stifled,  and 
compressed,  that  he  could  not  endure  the  torture  without 
an  effort  to  ease  it  by  moving  a  little.  He  had  stirred  ; 
then  all  was  still  again. 

"  Think  he's  heerd  us  ?"  said  Silas. 

"  Must  have  heerd  something,"  said  Gad. 

"  Then  he's  as  good  as  a  dead  man  !  " 

Silas  drew  his  pistol,  resolved  to  sacrifice  the  school- 
master on  the  altar  of  secrecy.  But  as  he  was  about  to 
fire  into  the  chest  at  a  venture  (for  your  cowardly  assas- 
sin does  not  like  to  face  his  victim),  the  lid  flew  open, 
the  chivalry  stepped  hastily  back,  and  up  rose  out  of  the 
chest  —  not  the  schoolmaster,  but  —  Lysander  Sprowl. 

Silas  had  struck  his  head,  against  a  rafter,  and  was 
quite  bewildered  for  a  moment  by  the  shock,  the  multi- 
tude cf  meteors  that  rushed  across  his  firmament,  and  the 
sudden  apparition.  Gad,  at  the  same  time,  stood  read) 
8* 


90  THE    WIDOW'S    OREEN   CHEST. 

to  take  a  plunge  down  the  stairs  in  case  the  schoolmaster 
should  show  fight. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  "  wanderer  on  the  face  of  the 
'arth,''  straightening  his  limbs,  and  saluting  with  a  reck- 
less air,  "  I  hope  I  see  ye  well.  Never  mind  about 
shooting  an  old  friend,  Sile  Ropes.  I  reckon  we're 
about  even ;  and  I'll  keep  your  secret,  if  you'll  keep 
mine." 

"  That's  fair,"  said  Ropes,  recovering  from  the  falling 
stars,  and  putting  up  his  weapon.  "  Lysander,  how  are 
ye  ?  Good  joke,  ain't  it  ?  "  And  they  shook  hands  all 
around.  "  But  whar's  the  schoolmaster  :  "  And  Silas 
rubbed  his  head. 

"  I  know  all  about  the  schoolmaster,"  said  Lysander, 
stepping  out  of  the  chest ;  "  he  ain't  in  this  house,  but  I 
know  just  where  he  is.  And  I  reckon  'twill  be  for  the 
interest  of  me  and  Gus  Bythewood  if  we  can  have  a  little 
talk  together,  tell  him.  If  he's  got  money  to  spare, 
that'll  be  to  my  advantage  ;  and  what  I  know  will  be  U 
his  advantage." 

So  saying,  Lysander  closed  the  chest,  and  coolly 
invited  the  chivalry  to  resume  their  seats.  They  did 
so,  much  to  the  amazement  of  Mrs.  Sprowl,  who  came 
up  stairs  with  the  whiskey,  and  found  the  "  wanderer  on 
the  face  of  the  'arth  "  conversing  in  the  most  amicable 
manner  with  Gad  and  Silas. 


SOUTHERN  HOSPITALITY.  91 


XI. 


SOUTHERN  HOSPITALITY. 


F  what  Silas  Ropes  had  said  of  his  patron, 
Augustus  Kythewood,  was  true,  great  must 
have  been  the  chagrin  of  that  chivalrous 
young  gentleman  when  an  interview  was  brought  about 
between  him  and  Lysander,  and  he  learned  that  Penn, 
instead  of  being  driven  from  the  state,  had  found  refuge 
in  the  family  of  Mr.  Villars  —  that  he  was  there  even 
at  the  moment  when  he  made  his  delightful  little  even- 
ing call,  and  was  entertained  so  charmingly  by  Virginia. 

Bythewood  gave  Sprowl  money,  and  Sprowl  gave  Bythe- 
wood  information  and  advice.  It  was  in  accordance  with 
the  programme  decided  upon  by  these  two  worthies,  that 
Mr.  Ropes  at  the  head  of  his  gang  presented  himself  the 
next  night  at  Mr.  Villars' s  door. 

Virginia,  by  her  father's  direction,  admitted  them. 
They  crowded  into  the  sitting-room,  where  the  old  man 
rose  to  receive  them,  with  his  usual  urbanity. 

"  Virginia,  have  chairs  brought  for  all  our  friends.     I 


92  SOUTHERN   HOSPJTALITf. 

cannot  see  to  recognize  them  individually,  but  I  salute 
them  all." 

"  Xo  matter  about  the  cheers,"  said  Silas.  "  We  can 
do  our  business  standing.  Sorry  to  trouble  you  with  it, 
sir,  but  it's  jest  this.  We  understand  you're  harboring  a 
Yankee  abolitionist,  and  we've  called  to  remind  you  that 
sech  things  can't  be  allowed  in  a  well-regulated  com- 
munity." 

The  old  man,  holding  himself  still  erect  with  punctil- 
ious politeness,  —  for  his  guests  were  not  seated,  —  and 
smiling  with  grand  and  venerable  aspect,  made  reply  in 
tones  full  of  dignity  and  sweetness :  "  My  friends,  I  am 
an  old  man ;  I  am  a  native  of  Virginia,  and  a  citizen  of 
Tennessee  ;  and  all  my  life  long  I  have  been  accustomed 
to  regard  the  laws  of  hospitality  as  sacred." 

"  My  sentiments  exactly.  I  won't  hear  a  word  said 
agin'  southern  horsepitality,  or  southern  perliteness."  Mr. 
Ropes  illustrated  his  remark  by  spitting  copious  tobacco- 
juice  on  the  floor.  "  Horsepitality  I  look  upon  as  one  of 
the  stable  institootions  of  our  country." 

"  No  doubt  it  is  so,"  said  Mr.  Villars,  smiling  at  the 
unintentional  pun. 

"  That's  one  thing,"  added  Silas ;  "  but  harboring  a 
abolitionist  is  another.  That's  the  question  we've  jest 
took  the  liberty  to  call  and  have  a  little  quiet  talk  about, 
to-night." 

"  Sit  down,  dear  father,  do  ! "  entreated  Virginia,  re- 
maining at  his  side  in  spite  of  her  dread  and  abhorrence 


SOUTHERN  HOSPITALITY.  98 

of  these  men.  Holding  his  hand,  and  regarding  him 
with  pale  and  anxious  looks,  she  endeavored  with  gentle 
force  to  get  him  into  his  chair.  "  My  father  is  very 
feeble,"  she  said,  appealing  to  Silas,  "  and  I  beg  you 
will  have  some  consideration  for  him." 

"  Sartin,  sartin,"  said  Silas.  "  Keep  yer  settin',  keep 
yer  settin',  Mr.  Villars." 

But  the  old  man  still  remained  upon  his  feet,  —  his 
tall,  spare  form,  bent  with  age,  his  long,  thin  locks  of 
white  hair,  and  his  wan,  sightless,  calm,  and  beautiful 
countenance  presenting  a  wonderful  contrast  to  the  bloom- 
ing figure  at  his  side.  It  was  a  picture  which  might 
well  command  the  respectful  attention  of  Silas  and  his 
compeers. 

"  My  friends,"  he  said,  with  a  grave  smile,  "  we  men 
of  the  south  are  rather  boastful  of  our  hospitality.  But 
true  hospitality  consists  in  something  besides  eating  and 
drinking  with  those  whose  companionship  is  a  sufficient 
recompense  for  all  that  we  do  for  them.  It  clothes  the 
naked,  feeds  the  hungry,  shelters  the  distressed.  With 
the  Arabs,  even  an.  enemy  is  sacred  who  happens  to  be 
a  guest.  Shall  an  old  Virginian  think  less  of  the  honor 
of  his  house  than  an  Arab  ? " 

Silas  looked  abashed,  silenced  for  a  moment  by  these 
noble  words,  and  the  venerable  and  majestic  mien  of 
the  blind  old  clergyman.  It  would  not  do,  however,  to 
give  up  his  mission  so  ;  and  after  coughing,  turning  his 
quid,  and  spitting  again,  he  replied,  -- 


94  BOUTBEBy  HOSPITALITY. 

"  That'll  do  very  well  to  talk,  Mr.  Villars.  But  come 
to  the  pint.  You've  got  a  Yankee  abolitionist  in  your 
house  —  that  you  won't  deny." 

"  I  have  in  my  house,"  said  the  old  man,  "  a  person 
whose  life  is  in  danger  from  injuries  received  at  your 
hands  last  night.  He  came  to  us  in  a  condition  which, 
I  should  have  thought,  would  excite  the  pity  of  the 
hardest  heart.  Whether  or  not  he  is  a  Yankee  aboli- 
tionist, I  never  inquired.  It  was  enough  for  me  that  he 
was  a  fellow-creature  in  distress.  He  is  well  known  in 
this  community,  where  he  has  never  been  guilty  of 
wrong  towards  any  one  ;  and,  even  if  he  were  a  danger- 
ous person,  he  is  not  now  in  a  condition  to  do  mischief. 
Gentlemen,  my  guest  is  very  ill  with  a  fever." 

"  Can't  help  that ;  you  must  git  red  of  him,"  said 
Silas.  "  I'm  a  talking  now  for  your  own  good  as  much 
as  any  body's,  Mr.  Villars.  You're  a  man  we  all  respect ; 
but  already  you've  made  yourself  a  object  of  suspicion, 
by  standing  up  fur  the  old  rotten  Union." 

"  When  I  can  no  longer  befriend  my  guests,  or  stand 
np  for  my  country,  then  I  shall  have  lived  long  enough ! " 
laid  the  old  man,  with  impressive  earnestness. 

"  The  old  Union,"  said  Gad,  coming  to  the  aid  of  Silas, 
"  is  played  out.  We  couldn't  have  our  rights,  and  so  we 
secede." 

"  What  rights  couldn't  you  have  under  th« 
left  to  us  by  Washington  ?  " 

"  That  had  become  corrupted,"  said  Mr.  l 


SOUTHERN  HOSPITALITY.  95 

**  How  corrupted,  my  friend  ? " 
"  By  the  infernal  anti-slavery  element !  " 
"  You  forget,"    said    Mr.   Villars,   "  that  Washington, 
Jefferson,  and  indeed  all  the  wisest   and  best  men  who 
assisted   to  frame   the  government  under  which  we  have 
been   so   prospered,  were  anti-slavery  men." 

"  Wai,  I  know,  some  on  'em  hadn't  got  enlightened 
on  the  subject,"  Mr.  Ropes  admitted. 

"  And  do  you  know  that  if  a  stranger,  endowed  with 
all  the  virtues  of  those  patriots,  should  come  among 
you  and  preach  the  political  doctrines  of  Washington 
and  Jefferson,  you  would  serve  him  as  you  served  Penn 
Hapgood  last  night  ?  " 

"  Shouldn't  wonder  the  least  mite  if  we  should !  " 
Silas  grinned.  "  But  that's  nothing  to  the  purpose. 
We  claim  the  right  to  carry  our  slaves  into  the  territo- 
ries, and  Lincoln's  party  is  pledged  to  keep  'em  out, 
and  that's  cause  enough  for  secession." 

"  How  many  slaves  do  you  own,  Mr  Ropes  ? "  Mr. 
Villars,  still  leaning  on  his  daughter's  arm,  smiled  as  he 
put  this  mild  question. 

"  I  —  wal  —  truth  is,  I  don't  own  nary  slave  myself — 
wish  I  did  !  "  said  Silas. 

"  How  many  friends  have  you  with  you  ?  " 

"  'Lev'n,"   said  Gad,  rapidly  counting  his  companions 

"  Well,  of  the  eleven,  how  many  own  slaves  ?  " 

"  I  do  !  "    "I  do !  "    spoke  up  two  eager  voices. 

"  How  many  slaves  do  you  own  ?  " 


96  SOUTHERN  HOSPITALITY. 

"  I've  got  as  right  smart  a  little  nigger  boy  as  there  is 
anywheres  in  Tennessee  !  "  said  the  first,  proudly. 

"  How  old  is  he  ?  " 

"  He'll  be  nine  year'  old  next  grass,  I  reckon." 

"  Well,  how  many  negroes  has  your  friend  ?  " 

"  I've  got  one  old  woman,  sir." 

"  How  old  is  she  ?  " 

"  Wai,  plaguy  nigh  a  hunderd,  —  old  Bess,  you  know 
her." 

"  Yes,  I  know  old  Bess  ;  and  an  excellent  creature  she 
is.  So  it  seems  that  you  eleven  men  own  two  slaves. 
And  these  you  wish  to  take  into  some  of  the  territories, 
I  suppose." 

The  men  looked  foolish,  and  were  obliged  to  own  that 
they  had  never  dreamed  of  conveying  either  the  nine-year- 
old  lad  or  the  female  centenarian  out  of  the  state  of  Ten- 
nessee. 

"  Then  what  is  the  grievance  you  complain  of  ? " 
asked  the  old  man.  They  could  not  name  any.  "  O, 
now,  my  friends,  look  you  here !  I  believe  in  the  right 
of  revolution  when  a  government  oppresses  a  people 
beyond  endurance.  But  in  this  case  it  appears,  by  your 
own  showing,  that  not  one  of  you  has  suffered  any  wrong, 
and  that  this  is  not  a  revolution  in  behalf  of  the  poor 
and  oppressed.  If  anybody  is  to  be  benefited  by  it,  it 
is  a  few  rich  owners  of  slaves,  who  are  prosperous  enough 
already,  and  have  really  no  cause  of  complaint.  It  is  a 
revolution  precipitated  by  political  leaders,  who  wish  to 


SOUTHERN  HOSPITALITY.  97 

be  rulers  ;  and  what  grieves  me  at  the  heart  is,  that  the 
poor  and  ignorant  are  thus  permitting  themselves  to  be 
made  the  tools  of  this  tyranny,  which  will  soon  prove 
more  despotic  than  it  was  possible  for  the  dear  old  gov- 
ernment ever  to  become.  God  bless  my  country  !  God 
bless  my  poor  distracted  country ! " 

As  he  finished  speaking,  the  old  man  sank  down  over- 
come with  emotion  upon  his  chair,  clasping  his  daughter's 
hand,  while  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks. 

His  argument  was  so  unanswerable  that  nothing  was 
left  for  Silas  but  to  get  angry. 

"  I  see  you're  not  only  a  Unionist,  but  more'n  half  a 
Yankee  abolitionist  yourself!  We  didn't  come  here  to 
listen  to  any  sech  incendiary  talk.  Kick  out  the  school- 
master, if  you  wouldn't  git  into  trouble,  —  I  warn  you  ! 
That's  the  business  we've  come  to  see  to,  and  you  must 
tend  to't." 

"  Pity  him  —  spare  him  !  "  cried  Virginia,  shielding 
her  aged  father  as  Ropes  approached  him.  "  He  cannot 
turn  a  sick  man  out  of  his  house,  you  know  he  cannot !  " 

"You're  partic'larly  interested  in  the  young  man,  hey?" 
said  Ropes,  grinning  insolently. 

"  I  am  interested  that  no  harm  comes  either  to  my 
father  or  to  his  guests,"  said  the  girl.  "  Go,  I  implore 
you !  As  soon  as  Mr.  Hapgood  is  able  to  leave  us,  he 
will  do  so,  —  he  will  have  no  wish  to  stay,  —  this  I 
promise  you." 

"  !'>'  give  him  three  days  to  quit  the  country,'*  said 
9 


98  SOUTHERN  HOSPITALITY. 

Silas.  "  Only  three  days.  He'd  better  be  dead  than 
found  here  at  the  end  of  that  time.  Gentlemen,  we've 
performed  this  yer  painful  dooty;  now  le's  adjourn  to 
Barber  Jim's  and  take  a  drink." 

With  these  words  Mr.  Ropes  retired.  While,  how- 
ever, he  was  treating  his  men  to  whiskey  and  cigars  with 
Augustus  Bythewood's  money,  advanced  for  the  purpose, 
one  of  the  eleven,  separating  himself  from  the  rest,  hur- 
ried back  to  the  minister's  house.  He  had  taken  part 
in  the  patriotic  proceedings  of  his  friends  with  great 
reluctance,  as  appeared  from  the  manner  in  which  he 
shrank  from  view  in  corners  and  behind  the  backs  of  his 
comrades,  and  drew  down  his  woe-begone  mouth,  and 
rolled  up  his  dismal  eyes,  during  the  entire  interview. 
And  he  had  returned  now,  at  the  risk  of  his  life,  to  do 
Penn  a  service. 

He  crept  to  the  kitchen  door,  and  knocked  softly. 
Carl  opened  it.  There  stood  the  wretched  figure,  ter- 
rified, panting  for  breath. 

"Vat  is  it?"    said  Carl. 

"  I've  come  fur  to  tell  ye !  "  said  the  man,  glancing 
timidly  around  into  the  darkness  to  see  if  he  was  fol- 
lowed. "  They  mean  to  kill  him  !  They  told  you  they  'd 
give  him  three  days,  but  they  won't.  I  heard  them  say- 
ing so  among  themselves.  They  may  be  back  this  very 
night,  for  they  '11  all  git  drunk,  and  nothing  will  stop  'em 
then." 

Carl  stared,  as    these  hoarsely  whispered  words  were 


SOUTHERN  HOSPITALITY.  99 

poured  forth  rapidly  by  the  frightened  man  at  the 
door. 

"  Come  in,  and  shpeak  to  Mishter  Willars." 

"  No,  no  !     I'll  be  killed  if  I'm  found  here  !  " 

But  Carl,  sturdy  and  resolute,  had  no  idea  of  per- 
mitting him  to  deliver  so  hasty  and  alarming  a  message 
without  subjecting  him  to  a  cross-examination.  He  had 
already  got  him  by  the  collar,  and  now  he  dragged  him 
into  the  house,  the  man  not  daring  to  resist  for  fear  of 
outcry  and  exposure. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "    asked  Mr.  Villars. 

"  A  wisitor  ! "  said  Carl.  And  he  repeated  Dan's 
statement,  while  Dan  was  recovei'ing  his  breath. 

"  Is  this  true,  Mr.  Pepperill  ?  "  asked  the  old  man, 
deeply  concerned. 

"  Yes,  I  be  durned  if  it  ain't !  "     said  Dan. 

Virginia  clung  to  her  father's  chair,  white  with 
apprehension.  Toby  was  also  present,  having  left  his 
patient  an  instant  to  run  down  stairs,  and  learn  what  was 
the  cause  of  this  fresh  disturbance. 

"  He's  a  lyin'  to  ye,  Mass'  Villars  ;  he's  a  lyin'  to 
ye !  White  trash  can't  tell  de  troof  if  dey  tries  !  Don't 
ye  breeve  a  word  he  says,  massa." 

Yet  it  was  evident  from  the  consternation  the  old 
negro's  face  betrayed  that  lie  believed  Dan's  story,  — 
or  at  least  feared  it  would  prove  true  if  he  did  not  make 
haste  and  deny  it  stoutly ;  for  Toby,  like  many  persons 
with  whiter  skins,  always  felt  on  such  occasions  a  vague 


100  SOUTHERN   HOSPI1ALITX 

faith  that  if  he  could  get  the  bad  news  sufficiently 
denounced  and  discredited  in  season,  all  would  be  well. 
As  if  simply  setting  our  minds  against  the  truth  would 
de-feat  it! 

"  But  they  spoke  of  fittin'  yer  neck  to  a  noose  too ! " 

"  Mine  r  Ah,  if  nobody  but  myself  was  in  danger,  I 
should  be  well  content !  What  do  you  think  we  ought 
to  do,  Mr.  Pepperill  ?  " 

"  The  master  has  done  me  a  good  turn,  and  I'll  do 
him  one,  if  I  swing  fur't ! "  said  Dan,  straightening 
himself  with  sudden  courage.  "  Get  him  out  'fore  they 
suspect  what  you're  at,  and  I'll  take  him  to  my  house 
and  hide  him,  I  be  durned  if  I  won't ! " 

"  It  is  a  kind  offer,  and  I  thank  you,"  said  the  old 
man.  "  But  how  can  I  resolve  to  send  a  guest  from 
my  house  in  this  way  ?  Not  to  save  my  own  life 
would  I  do  it  ! " 

"  But  to  save  his,  father !  " 

"  It  is  only  of  him  I  am  thinking,  my  child.  Would 
it  be  safe  to  move  him,  Toby  : " 

"  Safe  to  move  Massa  Penn ! "  ejaculated  the  old 
negro,  choking  with  wrath  and  grief.  "  Neber  tink 
o'  sech  a  ting,  massa !  He'd  die,  shore,  widout  I 
should  go  'long  wid  him,  and  tote  him  in  my  ol'  arms 
on  a  fedder-bed  jes'  like  I  would  a  leetle  baby,  and 
den  stay  and  nuss  him  arter  I  got  him  dar.  For  dem 
'ar  white  trash,  what  ye  s'pose  day  knows  'bout  takin' 
keer  ob  a  sick  gemman  like  him  ?  It's  a  bery  'tic'lai 


bOU'X'ITERN   HOSPITALITY.  101 

case.  He's  got  de  delirimum  a  comin'  on  him  now, 
and  I  can't  be  &r.vay  from  him  a  minute.  I  mus'  go 
back  to  him  dis  bery  minute  !  " 

And  Toby  departed,  having  suddenly  conceived  an 
idea  of  his  own  for  hiding  Penn  in  the  barn  until  the 
danger  was  over. 

He  had  been  absent  from  the  room  but  a  moment, 
however,  when  those  remaining  in  it  heard  a  wild  out- 
cry, and  presently  the  old  negro  reappeared,  inspired 
with  superstitious  terror,  his  eyes  starting  from  their 
sockets,  his  tongue  paralyzed. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Toby  ?  "  cried  Virginia,  per- 
ceiving that  something  really  alarming  had  happened. 

The  negro  tried  to  speak,  but  his  throat  only  gurgled 
incoherently,  while  the  whites  of  his  eyes  kept  rolling 
up  like  saucers. 

"  Penn  —  has  anything  happened  to  Penn  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Villars. 

"  O,  debil,  debil,  Lord  bress    us  !  "    gibbered  Toby. 

"  Dead  ?  "  cried  Virginia. 

"  Gone  !     gone,  missis  !  " 

Struck  with  consternation,  but  refusing  to  believe  the 
words  of  the  bewildered  black,  Virginia  flew  to  the  sick 
man's  chamber. 

Then  she  understood  the  full  meaning  of  Toby's  words. 
Penn  was  not  in  his  bed,  nor  in  the  room,  nor  anywhere 
in  the  house.  He  had  disappeared  suddenly,  strangely, 
totally. 

9* 


102  CHIVALROUS    PROCEEDINGS. 


XII. 


CHIVALR  0  US  PE  0  GEE  DINGS. 


HUS  the  question  of  what  should  be  done 
with  his  guest,  which  Mr.  Yillars  knew  not 
how  to  decide,  had  been  decided  for  him. 

Great  was  the  mystery.  There  was  the  bed  precisely 
as  Penn  had  left  it  a  minute  since.  There  was  the  candle 
dimly  burning.  The  medicines  remained  just  where  Toby 
had  placed  them,  on  the  table  under  the  mirror.  But  the 
patient  had  vanished. 

What  had  become  of  him  ?  It  was  believed  that  he 
was  too  ill  to  leave  his  bed  without  assistance.  And, 
even  though  he  had  been  strong,  it  was  by  no  means 
probable  that  one  so  uniformly  discreet  in  his  conduct, 
and  ever  so  regardful  of  the  feelings  of  others,  would 
have  quitted  the  house  in  this  abrupt  and  inexplicable 
manner. 

In  vain  the  premises  were  searched.  Not  a  trace  of 
him  could  be  anywhere  discovered.  Neither  were  there 
any  indications  of  a  struggle.  Yet  it  was  Toby's  firm 


CHIVALROUS  PROCEEDINGS.        103 

conviction  that  the  ruffians  had  entered  the  house,  and 
seized  him ;  that  Pcpperill  was  in  the  plot,  the  object  of 
whose  visit  was  merely  a  diversion,  while  Eopes  and  the 
rest  accomplished  the  abduction.  This  could  not,  of 
course,  have  been  done  without  the  aid  of  magic  and 
the  devil ;  but  Toby  believed  in  magic  and  the  devil. 
The  fact  that  Dan  had  taken  advantage  of  the  confusion 
to  escape,  appeared  to  the  Ethiopian  mind  conclusive. 

Nor  was  the  negro  alone  in  his  bewilderment.  Carl 
was  utterly  confounded.  The  old  clergyman,  usually 
so  calm,  was  deeply  troubled  ;  Avhile  Virginia  herself, 
pierced  with  the  keenest  solicitude,  could  scarce  keep 
her  mind  free  from  horrible  and  superstitious  doubts. 
The  doors  between  the  sitting-room  and  back  stairs  were 
all  wide  open,  and  it  seemed  impossible  that  any  one 
could  have  come  in  or  gone  out  that  way  without  being 
observed.  On  the  other  hand,  to  have  reached  the  front 
stairs  Penn  must  have  passed  through  Salina's  room. 
But  Salina,  who  was  in  her  room  at  the  time,  averred 
that  she  had  not  been  disturbed,  even  by  a  sound. 

"  He  has  got  out  the  vinder,"  said  Carl.  But  the 
window  was  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground. 

Thus  all  reasonable  conjecture  failed,  and  it  seemed 
necessary  to  accept  Toby's  theory  of  the  ruffians,  magic, 
and  the  devil.  Only  one  thing  was  certain:  Penn  was 
gone.  And,  as  if  to  add  to  the  extreme  and  painful  per- 
plexity of  his  friends,  the  clothes,  which  had  been 
stripped  from  him  by  the  lynchers,  which  he  had  brought 


104  CHIVALROUS    PROCEEDINGS. 

away  in  his  hands,  and  which  had  been  hung  up  in 
his  room  by  Toby,  were  left  hanging  there  still,  un- 
touched. 

The  family  had  not  recovered  from  the  dismay  his  dis- 
appearance occasioned,  when  they  had  cause  to  rejoice 
that  he  was  gone.  Ropes  and  his  crew  returned,  as  Pep- 
perill  had  predicted.  They  were  intoxicated  and  blood- 
thirsty. They  had  brought  a  rope,  with  which  to  hang 
their  victim  before  the  old  clergyman's  door.  They  were 
furious  on  finding  he  had  eluded  them,  and  searched  the 
house  with  oaths  and  uproar.  Virginia,  on  her  knees, 
clung  to  her  father,  praying  that  he  might  not  be  harmed, 
and  that  Penn,  whom  all  had  been  so  anxious  just  now  to 
find,  might  be  safe  from  discovery. 

Exasperated  by  their  unsuccessful  search,  the  villains 
hesitated  about  laying  violent  hands  on  the  blind  old 
man,  and  concluded  to  wreak  their  vengeance  on  Toby. 
That  he  was  a  freed  negro,  was  alone  a  sufficient  offence 
in  their  eyes  to  merit  a  whipping.  But  he  had  done 
more  ;  he  had  been  devoted  to  the  schoolmaster,  and 
they  believed  he  had  concealed  him.  So  they  seized 
him,  dragged  him  from  the  house,  bared  his  back,  and 
tied  him  to  a  tree. 

As  long  as  the  mob  had  confined  itself  to  searching 
the  premises,  Mr.  Villars  had  held  his  peace.  But  the 
moment  his  faithful  old  servant  was  in  danger,  he  roused 
himself.  He  rushed  to  the  door,  bareheaded,  his  white 
hair  flowing,  his  staff  in  his  hand.  Both  his  children 


CHIVALROUS    PROCEEDINGS.  105 

accompanied  him,  —  Salina,  who  was  really  not  void  of 
affection,  appearing  scarcely  less  anxious  and  indignant 
than  her  sister. 

There,  in  the  light  of  a  wood-pile  to  which  fire  had 
been  set,  stood  the  old  negro,  naked  to  the  waist,  lashed 
fast  to  the  trunk,  writhing  with  pain  and  terror  ;  his  bru- 
tal tormentors  grouped  around  him  in  the  glare  of  the 
flames,  preparing,  with  laughter,  oaths,  and  much  loose, 
leisurely  swaggering,  to  flay  his  flesh  with  rods. 

"  My  friends  ! "  cried  the  old  clergyman,  with  an 
energy  that  startled  them,  "  what  are  you  about  to  do  ?  " 

"  We're  gwine  to  sarve  this  nigger,"  said  the  man  Gad, 
"  jest  as  every  free  nigger  ?11  git  sarved  that's  found  in  the 
state  three  months  from  now." 

"  Free  niggers  is  a  nuisance,"  added  Ropes,  now  very 
drunk,  and  very  much  inclined  to  make  a  speech  on  a 
barrel  which  his  friends  rolled  out  for  him.  "  A  nui- 
sance !  "  he  repeated,  with  a  hiccough,  steadying  himself 
on  his  rostrum  by  holding  a  branch  of  the  tree.  "  And 
let  me  say  to  you,  feller-patriots,  that  one  of  the  glorious 
fruits  of  secession  is,  that  every  free  nigger  in  the  state 
will  either  be  sold  for  a  slave,  or  druv  out,  or  hung  up. 
I  tell  you,  gentlemen,  we're  a  goin'  to  have  our  own 
way  in  these  matters,  spite  of  all  the  ministers  in 
creation  !  " 

The  men  cheered,  and  one  of  them  struck  Toby  a 
couple  of  preliminary  blows,  just  to  try  his  hand,  and  to 
add  the  poor  old  negro's  howls  to  the  chorus. 


106        CHIVALROUS  PROCEEDINGS. 

"  No  doubt,"  —  the  old  clergyman's  vuice  rose  above 
the  tumult,  — "  you  will  have  your  way  for  a  season. 
You  will  commit  injustice  with  a  high  hand.  You  will 
glut  your  cruelty  upon  the  defenceless  and  oppressed. 
But,  as  there  is  a  God  in  heaven,"  —  he  lifted  up  his 
blind  white  face,  and  with  his  trembling  hands  shook 
his  staff  on  high,  like  a  prophet  foretelling  woe,  —  "  as 
there  rs  a  God  of  justice  and  mercy  who  beholds  this 
wickedness,  — just  so  sure  the  hour  of  your  retribution 
will  come  !  so  sure  the  treason  you  are  breathing,  and 
the  despotism  you  are  inaugurating,  will  prove  a  snare 
and  a  destruction  to  yourselves  !  Unbind  that  man ! 
leave  my  house  in  peace  !  go  home,  and  learn  to  prac- 
tise a  little  of  the  mercy  of  which  you  will  yourselves 
soon  stand  in  need."  His  venerable  aspect,  and  the 
power  and  authority  of  his  words,  awed  even  that 
drunken  crew.  But  Silas,  vain  of  his  oratorical  pow- 
ers, was  enraged  that  anybody  should  dispute  his  influ- 
ence with  the  crowd.  Holding  the  branch  with  one 
hand,  and  gesticulating  violently  with  the  other,  he 
exclaimed,  — 

"  Who  is  boss  here  ?  Who  ye  goin'  to  mind  ?  thai 
old  traitor,  or  me  r  I  say,  lick  the  nigger  !  We're  a 
goin'  to  have  our  way  now,  and  we're  a  goin'  to  have 
our  way  to  the  end  of  the  'arth,  sure  as  I  am  a  gentle- 
man standing  on  this  yer  barrel !  " 

To  emphasize  his  declaration,  he  stamped  with  his 
foot ;  the  head  of  the  cask  flew  in,  and  down  went  ora- 


CHIVALROUS    PROCEEDINGS.  107 

tor,  cask,  and  all,  in  a  fashion  rendered  all  the  more 
ridiculous  by  the  climax  of  oratory  it  illustrated. 

"  Just  so  sure  will  your  hollow  and  inhuman  schemes 
fail  from  under  your  feet !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Villars,  as 
soon  as  he  learned  what  had  happened.  "  So  surely  and 
so  suddenly  will  you  fall." 

This  incident  occurred  as  Toby's  flogging  was  about 
to  begin  in  earnest.  Virginia  had  instinctively  covered 
her  eyes  to  shut  out  the  terrible  sight,  her  ears  to  shut 
out  the  sounds  of  the  beating  and  the  poor  old  fellow's 
groans.  Luckily,  Silas  had  fallen  partly  in  the  barrel, 
and  partly  across  the  sharp  edge  of  it,  and  being  too 
tipsy  to  help  himself,  had  been  seriously  hurt,  and  was 
now  helpless.  The  ruffians  hastened  to  extricate  him,  and 
raise  him  up.  Carl,  who,  with  an  open  knife  concealed 
in  his  sleeve,  had  been  waiting  for  an  opportunity,  darted 
at  the  tree,  cut  the  negro's  bonds  in  a  twinkling,  and  set 
him  free. 

Both  took  to  their  heels  without  an  instant's  delay. 
But  the  trick  was  discovered.  They  were  pursued  imme- 
diately. Carl  was  lively  on  his  legs,  as  we  know ;  but 
poor  old  Toby,  never  a  good  runner,  and  now  stiff  and 
decrepit  with  age,  M'as  no  match  even  for  the  slowest  of 
their  pursuers. 

They  ran  straight  into  the  orchard,  hoping  to  lose 
themselves  among  the  shadows.  The  glare  of  the  burn- 
ing wood-pile  flickered  but  faintly  and  unsteadily  among 
*he  trees.  Carl  might  easily  have  escaped ;  but  he 


108        CHIVALROUS  PROCEEDINGS. 

thought  only  of  Toby,  and  kept  faithfully  at  his  side, 
assisting  him,  urging  him.  v  A  fence  was  near  —  if  they 
could  only  reach  that !  But  Toby  was  wheezing  terribly, 
and  the  hand  of  the  foremost  ruffian  was  already  extended 
to  seize  him. 

"  Jump  the  vence  over  !  "  was  Carl's  parting  injunc- 
tion to  the  old  negro,  who  made  a  last  desperate  effort  to 
accomplish  the  feat ;  while  Carl,  turning  sharp  about, 
tripped  the  foot  of  him  of  the  extended  hand,  and  sent 
him  headlong.  The  second  pursuer  he  grappled,  and 
both  rolled  upon  the  ground  together. 

Favored  by  this  diversion,  Toby  reached  the  fence, 
climbed  it,  and  without  looking  how,  he  leaped,  jumped 
down  upon  —  a  human  figure,  stretched  there  upon  the 
ground  ! 

Notwithstanding  his  own  danger,  Toby  thought  of  his 
patient,  and  stopped. 

"  Is  it  you,  massa  ?  " 

The  man  rose  slowly  to  his  feet.  It  was  not  Penn  ;  it 
was,  on  the  contrary,  the  worst  of  Penn's  enemies,  who 
had  stationed  himself  here,  in  order  to  observe,  unseen, 
and  from  a  safe  distance,  the  operations  of  Silas  Ropes 
and  his  band  of  patriots. 

"  O,  Massa  Bythewood  !  "  ejaculated  Toby,  inspired 
with  sudden  joy  and  hope  ;  "  help  a  poor  old  niggah  ! 
Help  !  De  Villarses  will  remember  it  ob  ye  de  longest 
day  you  live,  if  you  on'y  will." 

"Why,   what's   the  matter,   Toby?"    said   Augustus, 


CHIVALROUS  PROCEEDINGS.        109 

full  of  rage  at  having  been  thus  discovered,  yet  assuming 
a  gracious  and  patronizing  manner. 

Toby  did  not  make  a  very  coherent  reply  ;  but  proba- 
bly the  young  gentleman  was  already  sufficiently  aware  of 
what  was  going  on.  He  had  no  especial  regard  for 
Toby,  yet  his  credit  with  Virginia  and  her  father  was  to 
be  sustained.  And  so  Toby  was  saved. 

Augustus  met  and  rebuked  his  pursuers,  released  Carl, 
who  was  suffering  at  the  hands  of  his  antagonist,  and  led 
the  way  back  to  the  house.  There  he  expressed  to  Mr. 
Villars  and  his  daughters  the  utmost  regret  and  indigna- 
tion for  what  had  occurred,  and  took  Mr.  Ropes  aside  to 
remonstrate  with  him  for  such  violent  proceedings.  His 
influence  over  that  fallen  orator  was  extraordinary. 
Hopes  excused  himself  on  the  plea  of  his  patriotic  zeal, 
and  called  off  his  men. 

"  How  fortunate,"  said  Augustus,  conducting  the  old 
man,  with  an  excessive  show  of  deference  and  politeness, 
back  into  the  sitting-room,  —  "  how  extremely  fortunate 
that  I  happened  to  be  walking  this  way  !  I  trust  no  seri- 
ous harm  has  been  done,  my  dear  Virginia  ?  " 

Bythewood  no  doubt  thought  himself  entitled  to  use 
this  affectionate  term,  after  the  sendee  he  had  rendered 
the  family. 

After  he  was  gone,  Toby,  having  recovered  from  his 
fright  and  the  fatigue  of  running,  and  got  his  clothes  on 
again,  rushed  into  the  presence  of  his  master  and  the 
young  ladies. 

10 


110  CHIVALROUS    PROCEEDINGS. 

"  I've  seed  Mass'  Penn  !  "  he  said.  "  Arter  Byth«- 
wood  done  got  up  from  under  de  fence  whar  I  jumped 
on  him,  I  seed  anoder  man  a  crawlin'  away  on  his  hands 
and  knees  jest  a  little  ways  off.  'Twas  Mass'  Penn  !  I 
know  'twas  Mass'  Penn." 

But  Toby  was  mistaken.  Tne  second  figure  he  had 
seen  was  Mr.  Lysander  Sprowl,  now  the  confidential 
adviser  and  secret  companion  of  Augustus. 


THE    OLD    CLERGYMAN'S   FIGHTGOWN. 


XIII. 


THE  OLD  CLERGYMAN'S  NI(r?r3^WN  HAS 
AN  ADVENTURE. 


HERE,  then,  all  this  time,  was  Penu  ? 
He    was   himself    almost    as    profound5  y  ig- 
norant on  that  subject  as  anybody.      For  two 
^r  three  hours  he  had  been  lost  to  himself  no  less  than 
to  his  friends. 

When  he  recovered  his  consciousness  he  found  that  he 
was  -lying  on  the  ground,  in  the  open  air,  in  what  seemed 
a  barren  field,  covered  with  rocks  and  stunted  shrubs. 

How  he  came  there  he  did  not  know.  He  had  nothing 
>n  but  his  night-dress,  —  a  loan  from  the  old  clergyman, 
^-besides  a  blanket  wrapped  about  him.  His  feet  wer 
bare,  and  he  now  perceived  that  they  were  pavnfult 
aching. 

Almost  too  weak  to  lift  a  hand  to  his  head,  he  yet  trierf 
to  sit  up  and  look  around  him.  All  was  darkness ;  not  a 
sign  of  human  habitation,  not  a  twinkling  light  was  vis- 
ible. The  cold  night  wind  swept  over  him,  sighing 


112       THE    OLD    CLERGYMAN'S   NIGHTGOWN. 

drearily  among  the  leafless  bushes.  Chilled,  shivering, 
his  temples  throbbing,  his  brain  sick  and  giddy,  he  sat 
down  again  upon  the  rocks,  so  ill  and  suffering  that  he 
could  scarcely  feel  astonishment  at  his  situation,  or  care 
whether  he  lived  or  died. 

Where  had  he  been  during  those  hours  of  oblivion : 
He  seemed  to  have  slept,  and  to  have  had  terrible  dreams. 
Could  he  have  remembered  these  dreams,  it  seemed  to 
him  that  the  whole  mystery  of  his  removal  to  this  des- 
olate spot  would  be  explained.  And  he  knew  that  it 
required  but  an  effort  of  his  will  to  remember  them.  Bat 
his  soul  was  too  weak :  he  could  not  make  the  effort. 

To  get  upon  his  feet  and  walk  was  impossible.  What, 
then,  was  left  him  but  to  perish  here,  alone,  uncared  for, 
unconsoled  by  a  word  of  love  from  any  human  being: 
Death  he  would  have  welcomed  as  a  relief  from  his  suf- 
ferings. Yet  when  he  thought  of  his  home  far  away,  in 
the  peaceful  community  of  Friends,  of  his  parents  anc 
sisters  now  anxiously  expecting  his  return,  —  and  again 
when  he  remembered  the  hospitable  roof  under  which  he 
lay,  so  tenderly  nursed,  but  a  little  while  ago,  and  though' 
of  the  blind  old  clergyman,  of  Virginia  fresh  as  a  rose, 
of  kind-hearted  Carl,  and  the  affectionate  old  negro,  —  he 
was  stung  with  the  desire  to  live,  and  he  called  feebly,  — 

"Toby!  Toby!" 

Was  his  cry  heard  ?  Surely,  there  were  footsteps  on 
the  rocks !  And  was  not  that  a  human  form  moving 
dimly  between  him  and  the  sky  ?  It  passed  on,  and  was 


THE    OLD    CLERGYMAN'S   NIGHTGOWN.       113 

lost  in  the  shadows  of  the  pines.  Was  it  some  animal, 
or  only  a  phantom  of  his  feverish  brain  ? 

"  Toby  !  "  he  called  again,  exerting  all  his  force.  But 
only  the  wailing  wind  answered  him,  and,  overcome  by 
the  effort,  he  sunk  into  a  swoon.  In  that  swoon  it  seemed 
to  him  that  Toby  had  heard  his  voice,  and  that  he  canu 
to  him.  Hands,  gentle  human  hands,  groped  on  him, 
felt  the  blanket,  felt  his  bare  feet,  and  his  head,  pillowed 
on  stones.  Then  there  seemed  to  be  two  Tobys,  one 
good  and  the  other  evil,  holding  a  strange  consultation 
over  him,  which  he  heard  as  in  a  dream. 

"  We  can't  leave  him  dying  here ! "  said  the  good 
Toby. 

"  What  dat  to  me,  if  him  die,  or  whar  him  die  ? "  said 
the  other  Toby.  "  Straight  har ! "  He  seemed  to  be 
feeling  Penn's  locks,  in  order  to  ascertain  to  which  race 
he  belonged.  "  Dat's  nuff  fur  me  !  Lef  him  be,  I  tell 
ye,  and  come  'long  !  " 

"  Straight  hair  or  curly,  it's  all  the  same,"  said  Toby 
the  Good.  "  Take  hold  here  ;  we  must  save  him  !  " 

"  Hyah-yah  !  ye  don't  cotch  dis  niggah  !  "  chuckled 
Toby  the  Bad,  maliciously.  "  Nuff  more  ob  his  kind,  in 
all  conscience !  Reckon  we  kin  spar'  much  as  one ! 
Hyah-yah  ! " 

Something  like  a  quarrel  ensued,  the  result  of  which 

was,  that  Toby  the  Good  finally  prevailed  upon  Toby  the 

Malevolent   to   assist   him.      Then   Penn   was   dreamily 

aware  of  being  lifted  in  the  strong  arms  of  this  double 

10* 


114       THE    OLD    CLERGYMAN'S   NIGHTGOWN. 

individual,  and  borne  away,  over  rocks,  and  among  thick- 
ets, along  the  mountain  side ;  until  even  this  misty  ray 
of  consciousness  deserted  him,  and  he  fell  into  a  stupor 
like  death. 

And  what  was  this  he  saw  on  awaking  ?  Had  he 
really  died,  and  was  this  unearthly  place  a^  vestibule  of 
the  infernal  regions  ?  Days  and  nights  of  anguish,  burn- 
ing, and  delirium,  relieved  at  intervals  by  the  same 
death-like  stupor,  had  passed  over  him  ;  and  here  he 
lay  at  length,  exhausted,  the  terrible  fever  conquered, 
and  his  soul  looking  feebly  forth  arid  taking  note  of 
things. 

And  strange  enough  things  appeared  to  him  !  He  was 
in  an  apartment  of  prodigious  and  uncouth  architecture, 
dimly  lighted  from  one  side  by  some  opening  invisible  to 
him,  and  by  a  blazing  fire  in  a  little  fireplace  built  on 
the  broad  stone  floor.  The  fireplace  was  without  chim- 
ney, but  a  steady  draught  of  air,  from  the  side  where  the 
opening  seemed  to  be,  swept  the  smoke  away  into  sombre 
recesses,  where  it  mingled  with  the  shadows  of  the  place, 
and  was  lost  in  gloom  which  even  the  glare  of  the  flames 
failed  to  illumine. 

J3uch  a  cavernous  room  Penn  seemed  to  have  seen  in 
his  dreams.  The  same  irregular,  rocky  roof  started  up 
from  the  wall  by  his  bed,  and  stretched  away  into  vague 
and  obscure  distance.  All  was  familiar  to  him,  but  all 
was  somehow  mixed  up  with  frightful  fantasies  which  had 
vanished  with  the  fever  that  had  so  recently  left  him. 


THE    OLD    CLERGYMAN'S   NIGHTGOWN.        115 

The  awful  shapes,  the  struggles  of  demoniac  men,  the 
processions  of  strange  and  beautiful  forms,  which  had 
visited  him  in  his  delirious  visions,  —  all  these  were  airy 
nothings ;  but  the  cave  was  real. 

Here  he  lay,  on  a  rude  bed  constructed  of  four  logs, 
forming  the  ends  and  sides,  with  canvas  stretched  across 
them,  and  secured  with  nails.  Under  him  was  a  mat- 
tress of  moss,  over  him  a  blanket  like  that  which  he  re- 
membered to  have  had  wrapped  about  him  last  night 
in  the  field. 

Last  night !  Poor  Penn  was  deeply  perplexed  when 
he  endeavored  to  remember  whether  his  mysterious 
awaking  in  the  open  air  occurred  last  night,  or  many 
nights  ago.  He  moved  his  head  feebly  to  look  for  Toby. 
Which  Toby  ?  for  all  through  his  sufferings  the  same  two 
Tobys,  one  good  and  the  other  evil,  who  had  taken  him 
from  the  field,  had  appeared  still  to  attend  him,  and 
he  now  more  than  half  expected  to  see  the  faithful  old 
negro  duplicated,  and  waiting  upon  him  with  two  bodies 
and  four  hands. 

But  neither  the  better  nor  even  the  worse  half  of  that 
double  being  was  near  him  now.  Penn  was  alone,  in 
that  subterranean  solitude.  There  burned  the  fire,  the 
shadows  flickered,  the  smoke  floated  away  into  the 
depths  of  the  dark  cavern,  in  such  loneliness  and  silence 
as  he  had  never  experienced  before.  He  would  have 
thought  himself  in  some  grotto  of  the  gnomes,  or  some 
awful  cell  of  enchantment,  whose  supernatural  fire  never 


116       THE   OLD    CLERGYMAN'S  NIGHTGOWN. 

went  out,  and  whose  smoke  rolled  away  into  darkness  the 
same  perpetually,  —  but  for  the  sound  of  the  crackling 
flames,  and  the  sight  of  piles  of  wood  on  the  floor,  so 
strongly  suggestive  of  human  agency. 

On  one  side  was  what  appeared  to  be  an  artificial 
chamber  built  of  stones,  its  door  open  towards  the  fire. 
Ranged  about  the  cave,  in  something  like  regular 
order,  were  several  massy  blocks  of  different  sizes, 
like  the  stools  of  a  family  of  giants.  But  where  were 
the  giants  ? 

Ah,  here  came  Toby  at  last,  or,  at  any  rate,  the  twin 
of  him.  He  approached  from  the  side  where  the  daylight 
shone,  bearing  an  armful  of  sticks,  and  whistling  a  low 
tune.  With  his  broad  back  turned  towards  Penn,  he 
crouched  before  the  fire,  which  he  poked  and  scolded 
with  malicious  energy,  his  grotesque  and  gigantic  shadow 
projected  on  the  wall  of  the  cave. 

"  Burn,  ye  debil !  K-r-r-r  !  sputter  !  snap  !  git  mad, 
why  don't  ye  ?  " 

Then  throwing  himself  back  upon  a  heap  of  skins, 
with  his  heels  at  the  fire,  and  his  long  arms  swinging 
over  his  head,  in  a  savage  and  picturesque  attitude,  he 
burst  into  a  shout,  like  the  cry  of  a  wild  beast.  This  he 
repeated  several  times,  appearing  to  take  delight  in  hear- 
ing the  echoes  resound  through  the  cavern.  Then  he 
began  to  sing,  keeping  time  with  his  feet,  and  pausing 
after  each  strain  of  his  wild  melody  to  hear  it  die  awaj 
in  the  hollow  depths  of  the  cave. 


TRE    OLD    CLERGYMAN'S   NIGHTGOWN.       117 

"De  glory  ob  de  Lord,  it  am  comin',  it  am  comin', 

De  glory  ob  de  Lord,  let  it  come! 

De  angel  ob  de    Lord,  hear  his  trumpet,  hear  his  trumpet, 
De  angel  ob  de  Lord,  he  ar  come  ! " 

At  the  last  words,  "  He  ar  come  !  "  a  shadow  darkened 
the  entrance,  and  Penn  looked,  almost  expecting  to  see 
a  literal  fulfilment  of  the  prophecy.  A  form  of  im- 
posing stature  appeared.  It  was  that  of  a  negro  up- 
wards of  six  feet  in  height,  magnificently  proportioned, 
straight  as  a  pillar,  and  black  as  ebony.  He  wore  a 
dress  of  skins,  carried  a  gun  in  his  hand,  and  had  an 
opossum  slung  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Hush  your  noise  !  "  he  said  to  the  singer,  in 
a  tone  of  authority.  "  Haven't  I  told  you  not  to 
wake  him  ?  " 

"  No  fear  o'  dat !  "  chuckled  the  other.  "  Him's  past 
dat !  Ki !  how  fat  he  ar  ! "  seizing  the  opossum,  and 
beginning  to  dress  him,  on  the  spot. 

"  Past  waking !  I  tell  you  he's  asleep,  and  every 
';hing  depends  on  his  waking  up  right.  But  you  set 
up  a  howl  that  would  disturb  the  dead  !  " 

"  Howl !  dat's  what  ye  call  singin'  ;  me  singin', 
Pomp." 

"  Well,  keep  your  singing  to  yourself  till  he  is  able  to 
stand  it,  you  unfeeling,  ungrateful  fellow !  " 

"  What  dat  ye  call  dis  nigger  ? "  cried  the  singer, 
jumping  up  in  a  passion,  with  his  blood-stained  knife  in 
his  hand.  "  Ongrateful !  Say  dat  ar  agin,  will  ye?" 


118        THE    OLD    CLERGYMAN'S   NIGHTOOWtf. 

"  Yes,  Cudjo,  as  often  as  you  please,"  said  Pomp 
calmly  placing  his  gun  in  the  artificial  chamber.  "  You 
are  an  unfeeling,  ungrateful  fellow." 

He  turned,  and  stood  regarding  him  with  a  proud, 
lofty,  compassionating  smile.  Cudjo' s  anger  cooled  at 
once.  Penn  had  already  recognized  in  them  the  twin 
Tobys  of  his  dreams.  And  what  a  contrast  between  the 
two !  There  was  Toby  the  Good,  otherwise  called 
Pomp,  dignified,  erect,  of  noble  features  ;  while  before 
him  cringed  and  grimaced  Toby  the  Malign,  alias  Cudjo, 
ugly,  deformed,  with  immensely  long  arms,  short  bow 
legs  resembling  a  parenthesis,  a  body  like  a  frog's,  and 
the  countenance  of  an  ape. 

"  You  know,"  said  Pomp,  "  you  would  have  left 
this  man  to  die  there  on  the  rocks,  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  me." 

'•  Gorry  !  why  not  ?  "  said  Cudjo.  "  What's  use  ob  all 
dis  trouble  on  his  'count  ? " 

'*  He  has  had  trouble  enough  on  our  account,"  said 
Pomp. 

"  On  our  'count  ?  Hiyah-yah  !  "  laughed  Cudjo,  get- 
ting down  on  his  knees  over  the  opossum ;  "  how  ye 
make  dat  out,  hy  ?  " 

"  Pay  attention,  Cudjo,  while  I  tell  ye,"  said  Pomp, 
stooping,  and  laying  his  finger  on  the  deformed  shoulder. 
Cudjo  looked  up,  with  his  hands  and  knife  still  in  the 
opossum's  flesh.  "  This  is  the  way  of  it,  as  I  heard 
last  night  from  Pepperill  himself,  who  got  into  trouble, 


THE    OLD    CLERGYMAN'S   NIGHTGOWN.       119 

as  you  know,  by  befriending  old  Pete  after  his  licking, 
And  you  know,  don't  you,  how  Pete  came  by  his 
licking  ? " 

"  Bein'  out  nights,  totin'  our  meal  and  taters  to  de 
mountains,  —  dough  I  reckon  de  patrol  didn't  know  nuf- 
fin'  'bout  dat  ar,  or  him  wouldn't  got  off  so  easy ! "  said 
Cudjo. 

"  Well,  it  was  by  befriending  Pepperill,  who  had  be- 
friended Pete,  who  brings  us  meal  and  potatoes,  that  this 
man  got  the  ill  will  of  those  villains.  Do  you  under- 
stand ?  " 

"  Say  'em  over  agin,  Pomp.  How,  now  ?  Lef  me 
see !  Dat  ar's  old  Pete,"  sticking  up  a  ringer  to  repre- 
sent him.  "  Dat  ar's  Pepperill,"  sticking  up  a  thumb. 
•'  Now,  yonder  is  dis  yer  man,  and  here  am  we.  Now, 
how  is  it,  Pomp  ?  " 

Pomp  repeated  his  statement,  and  Cudjo,  pointing  to 
his  long,  black  finger  when  Pete  was  alluded  to,  and  tap- 
ping his  thumb  when  Pepperill  was  mentioned,  suc- 
ceeded in  understanding  that  it  was  indirectly  in  conse- 
quence of  kindness  shown  to  himself  that  Penn  had 
come  to  grief. 

"  Dat  so,  Pomp  ? "  he  said,  seriously,  in  a  changed 
voice.  "  Den  'pears  like  dar's  two  white  men  me  don't 
wish  dead  as  dis  yer  possom  !  Pepperill's  one,  and  him's 
tudder." 

Pomp,  having  made  this  explanation,  walked  softly  to 
the  bedside.  He  had  not  before  perceived  that  Penn, 


120        THE   OLD    CLERGYMAN'S   NIGHTGOWN. 

lying  so  still  there,  was  awake.  His  features  lighted  up 
with  intelligence  and  sympathy  on  making  the  discovery, 
and  finding  him  free  from  feverish  symptoms. 

"  Well,  how  are  you  getting  on,  sir  ? "  he  said,  feeling 
Penn's  pulse,  and  seating  himself  on  one  of  the  giant's 
stools  near  the  bedstead. 

"  Where  am  I  ? "  was  Penn's  first  anxious  question. 

"  I  fancy  you  don't  know  very  well  where  you  are,  sir," 
said  the  negro,  with  a  smile ;  "  and  you  don't  know  me 
either,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  think  —  you  are  my  preserver  —  are  you  not  ?  " 

"  That's  a  subject  we  will  not  talk  about  just  now,  sir  ; 
for  you  must  keep  very  quiet." 

"  I  know,"  said  Penn,  not  to  be  put  off  so,  "  I  owe  my 
life  to  you !  " 

"  Dat's  so  !  dat  ar  am  a  fac' !  "  cried  Cudjo,  approach- 
ing, and  wrapping  the  warm  opossum  skin  about  his 
naked  arm  as  he  spoke.  "  Gorry  !  me  sech  a  brute,  me 
war  for  leavin'  ye  dar  in  de  lot.  But,  Pomp,  him 
wouldn't ;  so  we  toted  you  hyar,  and  him's  doctored  you 
right  smart  eber  sence.  He  ar  a  great  doctor,  Pomp  ar  ! 
Yah ! "  And  Cudjo  laughed,  showing  two  tremendous 
rows  of  ivory  glittering  from  ear  to  ear ;  capering,  swing- 
ing the  opossum  skin  over  his  head,  and,  on  the  whole, 
looking  far  more  like  a  demon  of  the  cave  than  a  human 
being. 

"  Go  about  your  business,  Cudjo  !  "  said  Pomp.  "  You 
mustn't  mind  his  freaks,  sir,"  turning  to  Penn.  "  You 


THE    OLD    CLERGYMAN'S   NIGHTGOWN.       121 

are  a  great  deal  better ;  and  now,  if  you  will  only  remain 
quiet  and  easy  in  your  mind,  there's  no  doubt  but  you 
will  get  along.'' 

Many  questions  concerning  himself  and  his  frienJs 
came  crowding  to  Penn's  lips ;  but  the  negro,  with  firm 
and  gentle  authority,  silenced  him. 

"  By  and  by,  sir,  I  will  tell  you  everything  you  wish 
to  know.  But  you  must  rest  now,  while  I  see  to  making 
you  a  suitable  broth." 

.  And  nothing  was  left  for  Penn  but  to  obey. 
11 


122  A  MAN'S 


XIV. 


A   MAN'S   STORY. 


HREE  days  longer  Penn  lay  there  on 
his  rude  bed  in  the  cave,  helpless  still, 
and  still  in  ignorance. 

Pomp  repeatedly  assured  him  that  all  was  well,  and 
that  he  had  no  cause  for  anxiety,  but  refused  to  enlighten 
him.  The  negro's  demeanor  was  well  calculated  to  in- 
spire calmness  and  trust.  There  was  something  truly 
grand  and  majestic,  not  only  in  his  person,  but  in  his 
character  also.  He  was  a  superb  man.  Penn  was  never 
weary  of  watching  him.  He  thought  him  the  most 
perfect  specimen  of  a  gentleman  he  had  ever  seen ; 
always  cheerful,  always  courteous,  always  comporting 
himself  with  the  ease  of  an  equal  in  the  presence  of  his 
guest.  His  strength  was  enormous.  He  lifted  Penn 
in  his  arms  as  if  he  had  been  an  infant.  But  his 
grace  was  no  less  than  his  vigor.  He  was,  in  short,  a 
lion  of  a  man. 

Cudjo  was    more    like    an  ape.       His  gibberings,  his 


A    MAN'S   STORY.  123 

grimaces,  his  antics,  his  delight  in  mischief,  excited 
in  the  mind  of  the  convalescent  almost  as  much  sur- 
prise as  the  other's  princely  deportment.  For  hours  to- 
gether he  would  lie  watching  those  two  wonderfully 
contrasted  beings.  Petulant  and  malicious  as  Cudjo 
appeared,  he  was  completely  under  the  control  of  his 
noble  companion,  who  would  often  stand  looking  down 
at  his  tricks  and  deformity,  with  composedly  folded  arms 
and  an  air  of  patient  indulgence  and  compassion  beautiful 
to-  witness. 

Meanwhile  Penn  gradually  regained  his  strength,  so 
that  on  the  fourth  day  Pomp  permitted  him  to  talk  a 
little. 

"  Tell  me  first  about  my  friends,"  said  Penn.  "  Are 
they  well  ?  Do  they  know  where  I  am  ? " 

"  I  hope  not,  sir,"  said  the  negro,  with  a  significant 
smile,  seating  himself  on  the  giant's  stool.  "  I  trust 
that  no  one  knows  where  you  are." 

"  What,  then,  must  they  think  ?  "  said  Penn.  "  How 
did  I  leave  them  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  they  are  very  much  perplexed  to  find 
out,  sir." 

"  You  have  heard  from  them,  then  ? " 

"  O,  yes  ;  we  have  a  way  of  getting  news  of  peo- 
ple down  there.  Toby  has  nearly  gone  distracted  on 
your  account.  He  is  positive  that  you  are  dead,  tor 
he  believes  you  could  never  have  got  well  out  of  hi» 
hands." 


124  A    AfAX'S    STORY. 

"  And  Miss  —  Mr.  Vfflars ? " 

"  They  have  been  so  much  disturbed  about  you,  that  1 
would  have  been  glad  to  inform  them  of  your  safety, 
if  I  could.  But  not  even  they  must  know  of  this 
place."  ., 

"  Where  am  I,  then  r  " 

"  You  are,  as  you  perceive,  in  a  cave.  But  I  suppose 
you  know  so  little  how  you  came  here  that  you  would 
find  some  difficulty  in  tracing  your  way  to  us  again  ? " 
This  Mas  spoken  interrogatively,  with  an  intelligent 
smile. 

"  I  am  so  ignorant  of  the  place,"  said  Penn,  "  that 
it  may  be  in  the  planet  Mars,  for  aught  I  know." 

"  That  is  well !  Now,  sir,"  continued  the  negro, 
"  since  you  have  several  times  expressed  your  obliga- 
tions to  us  for  preserving  your  life,  I  wish  to  ask  one 
favor  in  return.  It  is  this.  You  are  welcome  to  re- 
main here  as  long  as  you  find  your  stay  beneficial ; 
but  when  you  conclude  to  go,  we  desire  the  privilege 
of  conducting  you  away.  That  is  not  an  unreasonable 
request  ?  " 

"  Far  from  it.  And  I  pledge  you  my  word  to  make 
no  movement  without  your  sanction,  and  to  keep  your 
secret  sacredly,  But  tell  me  —  will  you  not  ?  —  how 
you  came  to  inhabit  this  dreadful  place  ?  " 

"  Dreadful  ?  There  are  worse  places,  my  friend, 
than  this.  Is  it  gloomy  ?  The  house  of  bondage  is 
gloomier.  Is  it  damp  ?  It  is  not  with  the  cruel  sweat 


A    MAN'S    STORY.  125 

and  blood  of  the  slave's  brow  and  back.  Is  it  cold  ? 
The  hearts  of  our  tyrants  are  colder." 

"  I  understand  you,"  said  Penn,  whose  suspicion 
was  thus  confirmed  that  these  men  were  fugitives. 
"  And  I  am  deeply  interested  in  you.  How  long  have 
you  lived  here  ?  " 

"Would  you  like  to  hear  something  of  my  story?" 
said  the  negro,  the  expression  of  his  eyes  growing 
deep  and  stern,  —  his  black,  closely  curling  beard  stir- 
ring with  a  proud  smile  that  curved  his  lips.  "  Per- 
haps it  will  amuse  you.'' 

"  Amuse  me  ?  No ! "  said  Penn.  "  I  know  by 
your  looks  thaf  it  will  not  amuse :  it  will  absorb 


me 


"  Well,  then,"  said  Pomp,  bearing  his  head  upon 
his  massy  and  flexible  neck  of  polished  ebony  like  a 
king,  yet  speaking  in  tones  very  gentle  and  low,  — 
and  he  had  a  most  mellow,  musical,  deep  voice,  —  "  you 
are  talking  with  one  who  was  born  a  slave." 

"  You  know  what  I  think  of  that !  "  said  Penn. 
"  Even  such  a  birth  could  not  debase  the  manhood  of 
one  like  you." 

"  It  might  have  done  so  under  different  circumstances. 
But  I  was  so  fortunate  as  to  be  brought  up  by  a  young 
master  who  was  only  too  kind  and  indulgent  to  me, 
considering  my  station.  We  were  playmates  when 
children ;  and  we  were  scarcely  less  intimate  when  we 
had  both  grown  up  to  be  men.  He  went  to  Paris  to 
11* 


126  A    AfAtf'S   STORY. 

study  medicine,  and  took  me  with  him.  I  passed  foi 
his  body  servant,  but  I  was  rather  his  friend.  He  never 
took  any  important  step  in  life  without  consulting  me ; 
and  I  am  happy  to  know,"  added  Pomp,  with  grand 
simplicity,  "  that  my  counsel  was  always  good.  He 
acknowledged  as  much  on  his  death-bed.  '  If  I  had 
taken  your  advice  oftener,'  said  he,  '  it  would  have 
been  better  for  me.  I  always  meant  to  reward  you. 
You  are  to  have  your  freedom  —  your 'freedom,  my  dear 
boy  ! ' " 

The  negro  knitted  his  brows,  his  breath  came  thick, 
aud  there  was  a  strange  moisture  in  his  eye. 

"  I  loved  my  master,"  he  continued,  with  simple  pathos. 
"  And  when  I  saw  him  troubled  on  my  account,  when  he 
ought  to  have  been  thinking  of  his  own  soul,  I  begged 
him  not  to  let  a  thought  of  me  give  him  any  uneasiness. 
My  free  papers  had  not  been  made  out,  and  he  was  for 
sending  at  once  for  a  notary.  But  his  younger  brother 
was  with  him  —  he  who  was  to  be  his  heir.  '  Don't 
vex  yourself  about  Pomp,  Edwin,'  said  he.  *  I  will 
see  that  justice  is  done  him.' 

"  '  Ah,  thank  you,  brother  ! '  said  Edwin.  '  You  will 
set  him  free,  and  give  him  a  few  hundred  dollars  to 
begin  life  with.  Promise  that,  and  I  will  rest  in  peace.' 
For  you  must  know  Edwin  had  neither,  wife  nor  child, 
and  I  was  the  only  person  dependent  on  his  bounty. 
He  was  not  rich  ;  he  had  spent  a  good  part  of  his  for- 
tune abroad,  and  had  but  recently  established  himself 


A    MAN'S    STORY.  127 

in  a  successful  practice  in  Montgomery.  Yet  he  left 
enough  so  that  his  brother  could  have  well  afforded  to 
give  me  my  freedom,  and  a  thousand  dollars." 

"And  did  he  not  promise  to  do  so?" 

"  He  promised  readily  enough.  And  so  my  master 
died,  and  was  buried,  and  I  —  had  another  master. 
For  a  few  days  nothing  was  said  about  free  papers  ; 
and  I  had  been  too  much  absorbed  in  grief  for  the 
only  man  I  loved  to  think  much  about  them.  But  when 
the  estate  was  settled  up,  and  my  new  master  was  pre- 
paring to  return  to.  his  home  here  in  Tennessee,  I 
grew  uneasy. 

"  '  Master,'  said  I,  taking  off  my  hat  to  him  one 
morning,  '  there  is  nothing  more  I  can  do  for  him  who 
is  gone  ;  so  I  am  thinking  I  would  like  to  be  for  myself 
now,  if  you  please." 

"  '  For  yourself,  you  black  rascal  ? '  said  my  new 
master,  laughing  in  my  face. 

"  I  wasn't  used  to  being  spoken  to  in  that  way,  and 
it  cut.  But  I  kept  down  that  which  swelled  up  in 
here"  —  Pomp  laid  his  hand  on  his  heart  —  "and 
reminded  him,  respectfully  as  I  could,  of  the  doctor's 
last  words  about  me,  and  of  his  promise. 

"'You  fool!'  said  he,  'do  you  think  I  was  in  earnest?' 

"  '  If  you  were  not,'  said  I,  '  the  doctor  was.' 

"  '  And  do  you  think,'  said  he,  '  that  I  am  to  be 
bound  by  the  last  words  of  a  man  too  far  gone  to 
know  his  own  mind  in  the  matter  ? ' 


128  A    MAN'S   STOBT. 

" '  He  always  meant  I  should  have  my  freedom,'  I 
answered  him,  '  and  always  said  so.' 

" '  Then  why  didn't  he  give  it  to  you  before,  instead 
of  requiring  me  to  make  such  a  sacrifice  ?  Come,  come, 
Pomp  !  '  he  patted  my  shoulder ;  '  you  are  altogether  too 
valuable  a  nigger  to  throw  away.  Why,  people  say  you 
know  almost  as  much  about  medicine  as  my  brother 
did.  You  '11  be  an  invaluable  fellow  to  have  on  a  planta- 
tion ;  you  can  doctor  the  field  hands,  and,  may  be,  if 
you  behave  yourself,  get  a  chance  to  prescribe  for  the 
family.  Come,  my  boy,  you  musn't  get  foolish  ideas  of 
freedom  into  your  head ;  they're  what  spoil  a  nigger, 
and  they  '11  have  to  be  whipped  out  of  you,  which  would 
be  too  bad  for  a  fine,  handsome  darkey  like  you.' 

"  He  patted  my  shoulder  again,  and  looked  as  pleasant 
and  flattering  as  if  I  had  been  a  child  to  be  coaxed,  —  I, 
as  much  a  man,  every  bit,  as  he  !  "  said  Pomp,  with  a 
gleam  of  pride.  "  I  could  have  torn  him  like  a  tiger  for 
his  insolence,  his  heartless  injustice.  But  I  repressed 
myself;  I  knew  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  violence. 

"  '  Master,'  said  I,  '  what  you  say  is  no  doubt  very 
flattering.  But  I  want  what  my  master  gave  me  —  what 
you  promised  that  I  should  have  —  I  shall  be  contented 
with  nothing  else.' 

"  '  What !  you  persist  ?  '  he  said,  kindling  up.  '  Let 
me  tell  you  now,  Pomp,  once  for  all,  you  '11  have  to  be 
contented  with  a  good  deal  less ;  and  never  mention  the 
word  "  freedom "  to  me  again  if  you  would  keep  that 
precious  hide  of  yours  v/hole  ! ' 


A    MAN'S   STORY.  129 

"  I  saw  he  meant  it,  and  that  there  was  no  help  for  me. 
Despair  and  fury  were  in  me.  Then,  for  the  only  time  in 
my  life,  I  felt  what  it  was  to  wish  to  murder  a  man.  I 
could  have  smitten  the  life  out  of  that  smiling,  handsome 
face  of  his !  Thank  God  I  was  kept  from  that.  I  con- 
cealed what  was  burning  within.  Then  first  I  learned 
to  pray,  —  I  learned  to  trust  in  God.  And  so  better 
thoughts  came  to  me ;  and  I  said,  '  If  he  uses  me  well,  I 
will  serve  him ;  if  not,  I  will  run  for  my  life.' 

"'Well,  he  brought  me  here  to  Tennessee.  Here  he 
was  managing  his  aunt's  estate,  which  she,  soon  dying, 
bequeathed  to  him.  Up  to  this  time  I  had  got  on  very 
well ;  but  he  never  liked  me  ;  he  often  said  I  knew  too 
much,  and  was  too  proud.  He  was  determined  to  humil- 
iate me  ;  so  one  day  he  said  to  me,  '  Pomp,  that  Nance 
has  been  acting  ugly  of  late,  and  you  permit  her.'  I  was 
a  sort  of  overseer,  you  see.  '  Now  I'll  tell  you  what  I  am 
going  to  have  done.  Nance  is  going  to  be  whipped,  and 
you  are  the  fellow  that's  going  to  whip  her.' 

"  '  Pardon,  master,'  said  I,  '  that's  what  I  never  did  — 
to  whip  a  woman.' 

"  '  Then  it's  time  for  you  to  begin.  I've  had  enough 
of  your  fine  manners,  Pomp,  and  now  you  have  got  to 
come  down  a  little.' 

"  '  I  will  do  any  thing  you  please  to  serve  your  in- 
terests, sir,'  said  I.  '  But  whip  a  woman  I  never  can, 
and  never  will.  That's  so,  master.' 

"  '  You  villain  ! '  he  shouted,  seizing  a  riding  whip,  '  I'll 


130  A    MAN'S   STORY. 

teach  you  to  defy  my  authority  to  my  face  ! '  And  he 
sprang  at  me,  furious  with  rage. 

"  '  Take  care,  sir  !  '  I  said,  stepping  back.  '  'Twill 
be  better  for  both  of  us  for  you  not  to  strike  me ! ' 

"  '  What !    you  threaten,  you  villain  ?  ' 

"  '  I  do  not  threaten,  sir  ;  but  I  say  what  I  say.  It 
will  be  better  for  both  of  us.  You  will  never  strike  me 
twice.  I  tell  you  that.' 

"  I  reckon  he  saw  something  dangerous  in  me,  as  1 
said  this,  for,  instead  of  striking,  he  immediately  called 
for  help.  '  Sam !  Harry  !  Nap !  bind  this  devil !  Be 
quick ! ' 

"  '  They  won't  do  it ! '  said  I.  '  Woe  to  the  man  that 
.lays  a  finger  on  me,  be  he  master  or  be  he  slave  ! ' 

"  '  I'll  see  about  that ! '  said  he,  running  into  the  house. 
He  came  out  again  in  a  minute  with  his  rifle.  I  was 
standing  there  still,  the  boys  all  keeping  a  safe  distance, 
not  one  daring  to  touch  me. 

"  '  Master/  said  I,  '  hear  one  word.  I  am  perfectly 
willing  to  die.  Long  enough  you  have  robbed  me  of  my 
liberty,  and  now  you  are  welcome  to  what  is  less  precious 
—  my  poor  life.  But  for  your  own  sake,  for  your  dead 
brother's  sake,  let  me  warn  you  to  beware  what  you  do. 

"  I  suppose  the  allusion  to  his  injustice  towards  me 
maddened  him.  He  levelled  his  piece,  and  pulled  the 
trigger.  Luckily  the  percussion  was  damp,  —  or  else  I 
should  not  be  talking  with  you  now.  His  aim  was 
straight  at  my  head.  I  did  not  give  him  time  for  a 


A    MAN'S   SfORT.  l3l 

second  attempt.  I  was  on  him  in  an  instant.  I  beat 
him  down,  I  trampled  him  with  rage.  I  snatched  his 
gun  from  him,  and  lifted  it  to  smash  his  skull.  Just  then 
a  voice  cried,  '  Don't,  Pomp  !  don't  kill  master  ! ' 

"  It  was  Nance,  pleading  for  the  man  who  would  have 
had  her  whipped.  I  couldn't  stand  that.  Her  mercy 
made  me  merciful.  '  Good  by,  boys  !  '  I  said.  They 
were  all  standing  around,  motionless  with  terror.  '  Good 
by,  Nance !  I  am  off;  live  or  die,  I  quit  this  man's  ser- 
vice forever ! 

"  So  I  left  him,''  said  Pomp,  "  and  ran  for  the 
woods.  I  was  soon  ranging  these  mountains,  free,  a  wild 
man  whom  not  even  their  blood-hounds  could  catch.  I 
took  the  gun  with  me  —  a  good  one  :  here  it  is."  He  re- 
moved the  rifle  from  its  crevice  in  the  rocks.  "  Do  you 
know  that  name  ?  It  is  that  of  its  former  owner  —  the 
man  who  called  himself  my  master.  Do  you  think  it 
was  taking  too  much  from  one  who  would  have  robbed 
me  of  my  soul  ?  " 

He  held  the  stock  over  the  bed,  so  that  Penn  could 
make  out  the  lettering.  Delicately  engraved  on  a  sur< 
fece  of  inlaid  silver,  was  the  well-known  name,  — 

" Augustus  Bythewood" 


AN   ANTI-SLAVERY    DOCUMENT. 


XV. 


AN  ANTI- SLAVERY  DOCUMENT  ON  BLACK 
PARCHMENT. 


E  N  N  was  not  surprised  at  this  discovery. 
He  had  already  recognized  in  Pomp  the  hero 
of  a  story  which  he  had  heard  before. 

"  But  all  this  happened  before  I  came  to  Tennessee, 
did  it  not  ?  Have  you  lived  in  this  cave  ever  since  ?  " 

"  It  is  three  years  since  I  took  to  the  mountains.  But 
I  have  spent  but  a  little  of  that  time  here.  Sometimes, 
for  weeks  together,  I  am  away,  tramping  the  hills,  explor- 
ing the  forests,  sleeping  on  the  ground  in  the  open  air, 
living  on  fish,  game,  and  fruits.  That  is  in  the  summer 
time.  Winters  I  burrow  here." 

"  If  you  are  so  independent  in  your  movements,  why 
have  you  never  escaped  to  the  north  ?  " 

"  Would  I  be  any  better  off  there  ?  Does  not  the 
color  of  a  negro's  skin,  even  in  your  free  states,  render 
him  an  object  of  suspicion  and  hatred  ?  What  chance  is 
there  for  a  man  like  me  ?  " 


AN   ANTI-SLAVERY   DOCUMENT.  133 

"  Little  —  very  true  !  "  said  Penn,  sadly,  contem- 
plating the  form  of  the  powerful  and  intelligent  black, 
and  thinking  with  indignation  and  shame  of  the  prejudice 
which  excludes  men  of  his  race  from  the  privileges  of 
free  men,  even  in  the  free  north. 

"  These  crags,"  said  the  African,  "  do  not  look  scorn- 
fully upon  me  because  of  the  color  of  my  skin.  The 
watercourses  sing  for  me  their  gladdest  songs,  black  as 
I  am.  And  the  serious  trees  seem  to  love  me,  even  as  I 
love  them.  It  is  a  savage,  lonely,  but  not  unhappy  life  1 
lead  —  far  better  for  a  man  like  me  than  servitude  here, 
or  degradation  at  the  north.  I  have  one  faithful  human 
friend  .at  least.  Cudjo,  cunning  and  capricious  as  he 
seems,  is  capable  of  genuine  devotion." 

"  Have  you  two  been  together  long  ?  " 

"  One  day,  a  few  weeks  after  I  took  to  the  mountains, 
I  was  watching  for  an  animal  which  I  heard  rustling  the 
foliage  of  a  tree  that  grows  up  out  of  a  chasm.  I  held  my 
gun  ready  to  fire,  when  I  perceived  that  my  animal  was 
something  human.  It  climbed  the  tree,  ran  out  on  one 
of  the  branches,  leaped,  like  a  squirrel,  to  some  bushes 
that  grew  in  the  wall  of  the  chasm,  and  soon  pulled  itself 
up  to  the  top.  Then  I  saw  that  it  was  a  man  —  and  a 
black  man.  He  came  towards  the  spot  where  I  was  con- 
cealed, sauntering  along,  chewing  now  and  then  a  leaf, 
and  muttering  to  himself;  appearing  as  happy  as  a  sav, 
age  in  his  native  woods,  and  perfectly  unconscious  of 
being  observed.  Suddenly  I  rose  up,  levelling  my  gun 
12 


134  A  XT   ANTI-SLAVERY    DOCUMENT. 

He  uttered  a  yell  of  terror,  and  started  to  cast  himself 
again  into  the  chasm.  But  with  a  threat  I  prevented 
him,  and  he  threw  himself  at  my  feet,  begging  me  to 
grant  him  his  life,  and  not  to  take  him  back  to  hig 
master. 

"  '  Who  is  your  master  ? '  said  I. 

" '  Job  Coombs  was  my  master,'  said  he,  '  but  I  left 
him.' 

"  *  You  are  Cudjo,  then  ! '  said  I,  —  for  I  had  heard  of 
him.  He  ran  away  from  a  tolerably  good  master  on 
account  of  unmercifully  cruel  treatment  from  the  over- 
seer. But  as  he  had  been  frightfully  cut  up  the  night 
before  he  disappeared,  it  was  generally  believed  he  had 
crawled  into  a  hole  in  the  rocks  somewhere,  and  died, 
and  been  eaten  by  buzzards.  But  it  seems  that  he  had 
been  concealed  and  cured  by  an  old  slave  on  the  planta- 
tion named  Pete." 

"  Coombs's  Pete  !  "  exclaimed  Penn. 

"  You  have  good  cause  to  remember  the  name  !  "  said 
Pomp.  "  As  soon  as  Cudjo  was  well  enough  to  tramp,  he 
took  to  the  mountains.  It  was  a  couple  of  years  after- 
wards that  I  met  him.  We  soon  came  to  an  understand- 
ing, and  he  conducted  m°.  to  his  cave.  Here  he  lived. 
He  has  always  kept  up  a  communication  with  some  of 
his  friends  —  especially  with  old  Pete,  who  often  brings 
us  provisions  to  a  certain  place,  and  supplies  us  with 
ammunition.  We  give  him  game  and  skins,  which  he 
disposes  of  when  he  can,  generally  to  such  men  as 


AN    ANTI-SLAVERY    DOCUMENT.  135 

Pepperill.  He  was  going  to  Pepperill's  house,  after 
meeting  Cudjo,  that  night  when  the  patrolmen  discovered 
and  whipped  him.  That  led  to  Pepperill's  punishment, 
and  that  led  to  your  being  here.  ' 

"  Does  old  Pete  visit  you  since  ?  " 

"  No,  but  he  has  sent  us  a  message,  and  I  have  seen 
Pepperill." 

"  Not  here  !  " 

"  Nobody  ever  comes  here,  sir.  We  have  a  place 
where  we  meet  our  friends ;  and  as  for  Pepperill,  I  went 
to  his  house." 

"  That  was  bold  in  you  !  " 

"Bold?"  The  negro  smiled.  "What  will  you  say 
then  when  I  tell  you  I  have  been  in  Bythewood's  house, 
since  I  left  him  ?  I  wanted  my  medicine-case,  and  the 
bullet-moulds  that  belong  with  the  rifle.  I  entered  his 
room,  where  he  Avas  asleep.  I  stood  for  a  long  time  and 
looked  at  him  by  the  moonlight.  It  was  well  for  him  he 
didn't  Avake  !  "  said  Pomp,  Avith  a  dancing  light  in  his 
eye.  "  He  did  not ;  he  slept  Avell !  Having  got  Avhat  I 
Avanted,  I  came  aAvay  ;  but  I  had  changed  knives  Avith 
him,  and  left  mine  sticking  in  the  bedstead  over  his  head, 
so  that  he  might  knoAv  I  had  been  there,  and  not  accuse 
any  one  else  of  the  theft." 

"  The  sight  of  that  knife  must  have  given  him  a  shud- 
der, when  he  woke,  and  saAV  Avho  had  been  there,  and 
remembered  his  Avrongs  tOAvards  you  !  "  said  Penn. 

"  Well  it  might !  "  said  Pomp.     "  Come  here,  Cudjo.' 


135  AN   ANTI-SLAVERY    DOCUMENT 

Cudjo  had  just  entered  the  cave,  bringing  some  par- 
tridges which  he  had  caught  in  traps. 

"  It's  allus  '  Cudjo  !  Cudjo  do  dis  !  Cudjo  do  dat ! ' 
What  ye  want  o'  Cudjo  ?  " 

Pomp  paid  no  heed  to  the  ill-natured  response,  but 
said  calmly,  addressing  Penn,  — 

"  I  have  told  you  my  reasons  for  escaping  out  of 
slavery :  now  I  will  show  you  Cudjo  s.-" 

The  back  of  the  deformed  was  stripped  bare.  Penn 
uttered  a  groan  of  horror  at  the  sight. 

"  Dem's  what  ye  call  lickins  !  "  said  Cudjo,  with  a 
hideous  grin  over  his  shoulder.  "Dat  ar  am  de  ober- 
seer's  work." 

"  Good  Heaven  !  "  said  Penn,  sick  at  the  sight  of  the 
scars.  "  I  can't  endure  it !  Take  him  away !  " 

"  Don't  be  'fraid  !  "  said  Cudjo.  "  Feel  of  'em,  sar  !  " 
And  taking  Penn's  hand,  he  seemed  to  experience  a  vin- 
dictive joy  in  passing  it  over  his  lash-furrowed  flesh. 
"  Xot  much  skin  dar,  hey  ?  Rough  streaks  along  dar, 
hey  ?  Needn't  pull  your  hand  away  dat  fashion,  and  shet 
yer  eyes,  and  look  so  white  !  It's  all  ober  now.  "\Vhat 
if  you'd  seen  dat  back  when  'twas  fust  cut  up  ?  or  de 
mornin'  arter  ?  Shouldn't  blame  ye,  if  't  had  made  ye 
pick  den  !  " 

"  But  what  had  you  done  to  merit  such  cruelty  ? '' 
exclaimed  Penn,  relieved  when  the  back  was  covered. 

"  What  me  done  ?  De  oberseer  didn't  hap'm  to  like 
me  ;  dat's  what  me  done.  But  he  did  hap'm  to  like  my 


^.V    ANTI-SLAVERY   DOCUMENT.  137 

gal ;  dat's  more  what  me  done  !  So  he  cut  me  up  wid 
his  own  hand,  —  said  me  sassv.  and  wouldn't  work. 
Coombs,  hinrs  a  good  man  'nuii,  —  neber  found  no  fault 
'long  wid  him  ;  but  debil  take  dat  ar  Silas  Ropes  !  " 

"  Silas  Ropes  !  " 

"  Him  was  Coombs's  oberseer  dem  times,"  said  Cudfo. 
''Him  gi'  me  de  lickins  ;  him  got  my  gal  —  me  owe 
him  for  dat !  "  And,  with  a  ferocious  grimace,  clinching 
his  hands  together  as  if  he  felt  his  enemy's  throat,  he 
gave  a  yell  of  rage  which  resounded  through  the  cavern. 

"  Go  about  your  work,  Cudjo,"  said  Pomp.  "  What 
do  you  think  of  that  back,  sir  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  most  powerful  anti-slavery  document  I  ever 
saw  !  "  said  Penn. 

"  He  is  a  native  African,"  said  Pomp.  "  He  was 
brought  to  this  country  a  young  barbarian  ;  and  he  has 
barely  got  civilized  —  hardly  got  Christianized  yet !  I 
will  make  him  tell  you  more  of  his  history  some  day. 
Then  you  Avill  no  longer  wonder  that  his  lessons  in  Chris- 
tian love  have  not  made  a  saint  of  him  !  Now  you  must 
rest,  while  I  help  him  get  dinner." 

The  manner  of  cooking  practised  in  the  cave  was 
exceedingly  primitive.  The  partridges  broiled  over  the 
fire,  the  potatoes  roasted  in  the  ashes,  and  the  corn-cake 
baked  in  a  kettle,  the  meal  was  prepared.  The  artificial 
chamber  was  Cudjo's  pantry.  One  of  the  giant's  stools, 
having  a  broad,  flat  surface,  served  as  a  table.  On  this 
were  placed  two  or  three  pewter  plates,  and  as  many  odd 
12* 


138  AN    ANTI-SLAVERY    DOCUMENT. 

cups  and  saucers.  Cudjo  had  an  old  coffee-pot,  in  which 
he  made  strong  black  coffee.  He  could  afford,  however, 
neither  sugar  nor  milk. 

Penn's  wants  were  first  attended  to.  He  picked  the 
bones  of  a  partridge  lying  in  bed,  and  thought  he  had 
never  tasted  sweeter  meat. 

"  With  how  few  things  men  can  live,  and  be  comforta- 
ble !  and  what  simple  fare  suffices  for  a  healthy  appe- 
tite !  "  he  said  to  himself,  watching  Pomp  and  Cudjo  at 
their  dinner.  Pomp  did  not  even  drink  coffee,  but 
quenched  his  thirst  with  cold  water  dipped  from  a  po-1  in 
the  cave. 


IN  THE   CAVE  AND    ON  THE  MOUNTAIN.     139 


XVI. 


IN  TEE   CAVE    AND    ON    THE    MOUNTAIN. 


HAT  afternoon,  as  Penn  was  alone,  the  mys- 
tery of  his  removal  from  Mr.  Villars's  house 
was  suddenly  revealed  to  him. 

"  I  remember  it  very  distinctly  now,"  he  said  to  Pomp, 
who  presently  came  in  and  sat  by  his  bed.  "  Ropes  and 
his  crew  had  been  to  the  house  for  me.  Sick  and  deliri- 
ous as  I  was,  I  knew  the  danger  to  my  friends,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  I  must  leave  the  house.  So  I  watched 
my  opportunity,  and  when  Toby  left  me  for  a  minute,  I 
darted  through  his  room  over  the  kitchen,  climbed  down 
from  the  window  to  the  roof  of  the  shed,  and  from  there 
descended  by  an  apple  tree  to  the  ground.  This  is  the 
dream  I  have  been  trying  to  recall.  It  is  all  clear  to  me 
now.  But  I  do  not  remember  any  thing  more.  The 
delirium  must  have  given  me  preternatural  strength,  if  I 
walked  all  the  distance  to  the  spot  where  you  found 
me." 

"  That  you  did  walk  it,  your  bruised  and  bleeding  feet 


140       IN  THE   CAVE  AND    ON   THE  MOUNTAIN. 

were  a  sufficient  evidence,'"  said  the  negro.  "  You  had 
just  such  delirious  attacks  afterwards,  when  it  was  as 
much  as  Cudjo  and  I  wanted  to  do  to  hold  you." 

"  And  the  blanket  —  it  is  Toby's  blanket,  which  I 
caught  up  as  I  fled,"  added  Perm. 

He  now  became  extremely  anxious  to  communicate 
with  his  friends,  to  explain  his  conduct  to  them,  and  let 
them  know  of  his  safety.  Besides,  he  was  now  getting 
sufficiently  strong  to  sit  up  a  little,  and  other  clothing 
was  necessary  than  the  old  minister's  nightgown  and 
Toby's  blanket. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  it  all  over,"  said  Pomp,  "  and 
have  concluded  to  pay  your  friends  a  visit." 

"  No,  no,  my  dear  sir ! "  exclaimed  Penn,  with 
gratitude.  "  I  can't  let  you  incur  any  such  danger  on 
my  account.  I  can  never  repay  you  for  half  you  have 
done  for  me  already  ! "  And  he  pressed  the  negro's  hand 
as  no  white  man  had  ever  pressed  it  since  the  death  of  his 
good  master,  Dr.  Bythewood. 

Pomp  was  deeply  affected.  His  great  chest  heaved, 
and  his  powerful  features  were  charged  with  emotion. 

"  The  risk  will  not  be  great,"  said  he.  "I  will  take 
Cudjo  with  me,  and  between  us  we  will  manage  to  bring 
off  your  clothes." 

At  night  the  two  blacks  departed,  leaving  Penn  alone 
in  the  fire-lit  cave,  waiting  for  their  return,  picturing  to 
himself  all  the  difficulties  of  then-  adventure,  and  think- 
ing with  warm  gratitude  and  admiration  of  Pomp,  whose 


IN   THE    CAVE  AND    ON   THE   MOUNTAIN.      141 

noble  nature  not  even  slavery  could  corrupt,  whose  benev- 
olent heart  not  even  wrong  could  embitter. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  the  two  messengers 
arrived  at  Mr.  Villars's  house.  All  was  dark  and  still 
about  the  premises.  But  one  light  was  visible,  and  that 
was  in  the  room  over  the  kitchen. 

"  That  is  Toby's  room,"  said  Pomp.  "  Stay  here, 
Cudjo,  while  I  give  him  a  call." 

"  Stay  yuself,"  said  Cudjo,  "  and  lef  dis  chiT  go.  Me 
know  Toby  ;  you  don't." 

So  Pomp  remained  on  the  watch  while  Cudjo  climbed 
the  tree  by  which  Penn  had  descended,  scrambled  up  over 
the  shed-roof,  reached  the  window,  opened  it,  and  thrus* 
in  his  head. 

Toby,  who  was  just  going  to  bed,  heard  the  move- 
ment, saw  the  frightful  apparition,  and  with  a  shriek  dove 
under  the  bed-clothes,  where  he  lay  in  an  agony  of  fear, 
completely  hidden  from  sight,  while  Cudjo,  grinning  ma- 
liciously, climbed  into  the  room. 

"  See  hyar,  ye  fool !  none  ob  dat !  none  ob  your  playin' 
possum  wid  me  !  "  said  the  visitor,  rolling  Toby  over, 
while  Toby  held  the  clothes  tighter  and  tighter,  as  if  to 
show  a  lock  of  wool  or  the  tip  of  an  ear  would  have  been 
fatal.  "  He's  Cudjo  !  don't  ye  know  Cudjo  ?  Me  come 
for  de  gemman's  clo'es  !  " 

"  Hey  ?  dat  you,  Cudjo  ?  "  said  Toby,  venturing  at 
length  to  peep  out.  "  Wha —  wha —  what  de  debil  you 
want  hyar  ?  " 


142       7-V   THE   CAVE  AND   ON   THE   MOUNTAIN. 

"  De  gemman  sent  me.  Dis  yer  letter's  for  your 
massy." 

"  De  gemman  ? "  cried  Toby,  jumping  up.  "  Not 
Mass'  Penn  ?  not  Mass'  Hapgood  ?  " 

Immense  was  his  astonishment  on  being  assured  that 
Penn  was  alive,  recovering,  and  in  need  of  garments. 
Carl,  who  had  been  awakened  in  the  next  room  by  the 
noise,  now  came  in  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  He 
recognized  Penn's  handwriting  on  the  note,  and  immedi- 
ately hastened  with  it  to  Virginia's  room.  A  minute 
after  she  was  reading  it  to  her  father  at  his  bedside.  It 
was  written  with  a  pencil  on  a  leaf  torn  from  a  little 
blank  book  in  which  Pomp  kept  a  sort  of  diary  ;  but 
never  had  gilt-edged  or  perfumed  billet  afforded  the 
blind  old  minister  and  his  daughter  such  unalloyed 
delight. 

It  was  long  past  midnight  when  Pomp  and  Cudjo 
returned  to  the  cave,  bringing  with  them  not  only  Penn's 
garments,  but  a  goodly  stock  of  provisions,  which  Cudjo 
had  hinted  to  Toby  would  be  acceptable,  and,  more 
precious  still,  a  letter  from  Mr.  Villars,  written  by  his 
daughter's  own  hand. 

Penn  now  began  to  sit  up  a  little  every  day.  Gloomy 
as  the  cave  was,  it  was  not  an  unwholesome  abode  even 
for  an  invalid.  The  atmosphere  was  pure,  cool,  and 
bracing  ;  the  temperature  uniform.  Nor  did  Penn  suffer 
inconvenience  from  dampness  ;  though  often,  in  the  deep 
r.iiiness  of  the  night,  he  could  hear  the  far-off,  faint,  and 


IN   THIS   CAVE  AND    ON  THE  MOUNTAIN.      143 

melancholy  murmur  of  dropping  water  in  the  hollow 
recesses  of  the  cavern  beyond. 

One  day,  as  soon  as  he  was  well  enough  for  the  under- 
taking, Pomp  ordered  Cudjo  to  light  torches  and  show 
them  the  hidden  wonders  of  his  habitation.  Cudjo  was 
delighted  with  the  honor.  He  ran  on  before,  waving  the 
flaring  pine  knots  over  his  head,  and  shouting. 

Penn's  astonishment  was  profound.  Keen  as  had  been 
his  curiosity  as  to  what  was  beyond  the  shadowy  walls 
the  fire  dimly  revealed,  he  had  formed  no  conception  of 
the  extent  and  sublimity  of  the  various  galleries,  chanv 
bers,  glittering  vaults,  and  falling  waters,  embosomed 
there  in  the  mountain. 

"  Dis  yer  all  my  own  house  !  "  udjo  kept  repeating! 
with  fantastic  grimaces  of  satisfaction.  "  Me  found  him 
all  my  own  self.  Nobody  war  eber  hyar  afore  me ; 
Pomp  am  de  next ;  and  you's  de  on'y  white  man  eber 
seen  dis  yer  cave." 

It  grew  light  as  they  proceeded,  Cudjo's  torch  paled, 
and  the  waters  of  a  subterranean  stream  they  were  fol- 
lowing caught  gleams  of  the  struggling  day  from  another 
opening  beyond.  Climbing  over  fragments  of  huge  tum- 
bled rocks,  and  up  an  earthy  bank,  Penn  found  himself  in 
the  bottom  of  an  immense  chasm.  It  had  apparently 
been  formed  by  the  sinking  down  of  the  roof  of  the  cave, 
with  a  tremendous  superincumbent  weight  of  forest  trees. 
There,  on  an  island,  so  to  speak,  in  the  midst  of  the  subo 
terranean  darkness,  they  were  growing  still,  their  foftt 
tops  barely  reaching  the  level  of  the  mountain  above. 


144      IN    THE    CAVE   AND    ON    THE    MOUNTAIN. 

"  It  was  out  of  this  sink  I  saw  the  wild  beast  climb' 
ing,  that  turned  out  to  be  Cudjo,"  said  Pomp. 

"  Dat  ar  am  de  tree,''  said  Cudjo.  "  No  oder  way  but 
dat  ar  to  get  up  out  ob  dis  yer  hole." 

"  What  a  terrible  place  !  "  said  Penn,  little  thinking  at 
the  time  how  much  more  terrible  it  was  soon  to  become 
as  a  scene  of  deadly  human  conflict. 

Beyond  the  chasm  the  stream  flowed  on  into  still  more 
remote  parts  of  the  cave.  But  Penn  had  seen  enough  for 
one  day,  and  the  torch-bearing  Cudjo  guided  them  back 
to  the  spot  from  which  they  had  started. 

Penn  had  now  completely  won  the  confidence  of  the 
blacks,  who  no  longer  placed  any  restrictions  on  his 
movements.  It  had  been  their  original  purpose  never  to 
suffer  him  to  leave  the  cave  without  being  blindfolded. 
But  now,  having  shown  him  one  opening,  they  freely  per- 
mitted him  to  pass  out  by  the  other.  This  was  that  by 
which  he  had  been  brought  in,  and  which  was  used  by 
the  blacks  themselves  on  all  ordinary  occasions.  It  was  a 
mere  fissure  in  the  mountain,  hidden  from  external  view 
by  thickets.  Above  rose  steep  ledges  of  rocks,  thickly 
covered  with  earth  and  bushes.  Below  yawned  an  im- 
mense ravine,  far  down  in  the  cool,  dark  depths  of  which 
a  little  streamlet  flowed. 

Pomp  piloted  his  guest  through  the  thickets,  and  along 
a  narrow  shelf,  from  which  the  ascent  to  the  barren 
ledges  was  easy.  Upon  these  they  sat  down.  It  was  a 
beautiful  April  day.  This  was  Penn's  first  visit  to  the 


1ST   THE    CAVE  AND    ON    THE    MOUNT  A IX.      145 

upper  world  since  he  was  brought  to  the  cave.  The 
scene  filled  him  with  rapture  ;  the  loveliness  of  earth  and 
sky  intoxicated  him.  Here  he  was  among  the  rugged 
ranges  of  the  Cumberland  Mountains,  in  the  heart  of 
Tennessee.  On  either  hand  they  rolled  away  in  tremen- 
dous  billows  of  forest-crowned  rocks.  The  ravines  in 
their  sides  opened  into  little  valleys,  and  these  spread  out 
into  a  broad  and  magnificent  intervale,  checkered  with 
farms,  streaked  with  roads,  and  dotted  with  dwellings. 
Spring  seemed  to  have  come  in  a  night.  It  was  chill 
March  weather  when  Penn  left  the  world,  which  was  now 
warm  with  sweet  south  winds,  and  green  with  April 
verdure. 

"  How  beautiful,  how  beautiful !  "  said  he,  receiving, 
with  the  susceptibility  of  a  convalescent,  the  exquisite 
impression  made  upon  the  senses  by  every  sight  and 
sound  and  odor.  "  O  !  and  to  think  that  all  this  divine 
loveliness  is  marred  by  the  passions  of  men  !  Up  here, 
what  glory,  what  peace  !  Down  yonder,  what  hatred, 
violence,  and  sin !  No  wonder,  Pomp,  you  love  the 
mountains  so  ! " 

"It  is  doubtful  if  they  leave  the  mountains  in  peace 
much  longer,"  said  Pomp.  He  had  heard  the  night 
before  that  fighting  had  begun  at  Charleston,  and  the 
news  had  stirred  his  soul.  "  The  country  is  all  alive 
with  excitement,  and  the  waves  of  its  fury  will  reach  us 
here  before  long.  Take  this  glass,  sir :  you  can  see  sol- 
diers marching  through  the  streets." 
13 


146     IN   THE    CAVE   AXD    OX    THE   MOUNTAIN. 

"  They  are  marching  past  my  school-house ! "  said 
Penn.  He  became  very  thoughtful.  Ke  knew  that 
they  were  soldiers  recruited  in  the  cause  of  rebellion, 
although  Tennessee  had  not  yet  seceded,  —  although  the 
people  had  voted  in  February  against  secession  :  a  dis- 
honest governor,  and  a  dishonest  legislature,  aided  by 
reckless  demagogues  everywhere,  being  resolved  upon  pre- 
cipitating the  state  into  revolution,  by  fraud  and  force,  — 
if  not  with  the  consent  of  the  people,  then  without  it. 
"  I  had  hoped  the  storm  would  soon  blow  over,  and 
that  it  would  be  safe  for  me  to  go  peaceably  about  my 
business." 

"  The  storm,"  said  Pomp,  his  soul  dilating,  his  features 
kindling  with  a  wild  joy,  "  is  hardly  begun  yet !  The 
great  problem  of  this  age,  in  this  country,  is  going  to  be 
solved  in  blood !  This  continent  is  going  to  shake  with 
such  a  convulsion  as  was  never  before.  It  is  going  to 
shake  till  the  last  chain  of  the  slave  is  shaken  off,  and  the 
sin  is  punished,  and  God  says,  '  It  is  enough ! '  " 

He  spoke  with  such  thrilling  earnestness  that  Penn 
regarded  him  in  astonishment. 

"  What  makes  you  think  so,  Pomp  ?  " 

"  That  I  can't  tell.  The  feeling  rises  up  here,"  — the 
negro  laid  his  hand  upon  his  massive  chest,  —  "  and  that 
is  all  I  know.  It  is  strong  as  my  life  —  it  fills  and  burns 
me  like  fire  !  The  day  of  deliverance  for  my  race  is  at 
hand.  That  is  the  meaning  of  those  soldiers  down  there, 
arming  for  they  know  not  what." 


PENN'S   FOOT  KNOCKS    DOWN  A    MUSKET.    147 


XVII. 


PENN'S  FOOT  KNOCKS  DOWN  A  MUSKET. 


E  E  K  S  passed.  But  now  every  day  brought 
to  Penn  increasing  anxiety  of  mind  with 
regard  to  his  situation.  His  abhorrence  of 
war  was  as  strong  as  ever  ;  and  his  great  principle  of 
non-resistance  had  scarcely  been  shaken.  But  how  was 
he  to  avoid  participating  in  scenes  of  violence  if  he  re- 
mained in  Tennessee  ?  And  how  was  his  escape  from 
the  state  to  be  effected? 

"  You  are  welcome  to  a  home  with  us  as  long  as 
you  will  stay,"  said  Pomp.  "I  shall  miss  you  —  even 
Cudjo  will  hate  to  see  you  go." 

Penn  thanked  him,  fully  appreciating  their  kindness  ; 
but  his  heart  was  yearning  for  other  things. 

Day  after  day  he  lingered  still,  however.  The  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  escape  thickened,  instead  of  dimin- 
ishing. In  February,  as  I  have  said,  the  people  had 
voted  against  secession.  Not  content  with  this,  the  gov- 
ernor called  an  extra  session  of  the  legislature,  which  pro- 


148  .p-E-v-vs  FOOT  KNOCKS  DOWN  A  MUSKET. 

ceeded  to  carry  the  state  out  of  the  Union  by  fraud.  On  the 
sixth  of  May  an  ordinance  of  separation  was  passed,  to  be 
submitted  to  the  vote  of  the  people  on  the  eighth  of  June. 
But  without  waiting  for  the  will  of  the  people  to  be 
made  manifest,  the  authors  of  this  treason  went  on  to 
act  precisely  as  if  the  state  had  seceded.  A  league  was 
formed  with  the  confederate  states,  the  control  of  all  the 
troops  raised  in  Tennessee  was  given  to  Davis,  and  troops 
from  the  cotton  states  were  rushed  in  to  make  good  the 
work  thus  begun.  The  June  election,  which  took  place 
under  this  reign  of  terror,  resulted  as  was  to  have  been 
expected.  Rebel  soldiers  guarded  the  polls.  Few  dared 
to  vote  openly  the  Union  ticket ;  while  those  who  de- 
posited a  close  ticket  were  "  spotted/'  Thus  timid  men 
were  frightened  from  the  ballot-box  ;  while  soldiers  from 
the  cotton  states  voted  in  their  places.  Then,  as  it 
was  charged,  there  were  the  grossest  frauds  in  counting 
the  votes.  And  so  Tennessee  "  seceded." 

The  state  authorities  had  also  achieved  a  politic  stroke 
by  disarming  the  people.  Every  owner  of  a  gun  was 
compelled  to  deliver  it  up,  or  pay  a  heavy  fine.  The 
arms  thus  secured  went  to  equip  the  troops  raised  for  the 
Confederacy;  while  the  Union  cause  was  left  crippled 
and  defenceless.  Many  firelocks  were  of  course  kept 
concealed  :  some  were  taken  to  pieces,  and  the  pieces 
scattered,  —  the  barrel  here,  the  stock  there,  and  the 
lock  in  still  another  place,  —  to  come  together  again  only 
at  the  will  of  the  owner:  but,  as  a  general  thing,  the 


PENN'S   FOOT  KNOCKS   DOWN  A    MUSKET.     149 

loyalists  could  not  be  said  to  have  arms.  It  was  in  those 
times  that  the  precaution  of  Stackridge  and  his  fellow- 
patriots  was  justified.  The  secrecy  with  which  they 
had  conducted  their  night-meetings  and  drills,  though 
seemingly  unnecessary  at  first,  saved  them  from  much 
inconvenience  when  the  full  tide  of  persecution  set  in. 
They  were  suspected  indeed,  and  it  was  believed  they 
had  arms ;  but  they  still  met  in  safety,  and  the  place 
where  their  arms  were  deposited  remained  undiscovered. 

All  this  time,  Penn  had  no  money  with  which  to  de- 
fray the  expenses  of  travel.  When  his  school  was 
broken  up,  several  hundred  dollars  were  due  him  for 
his  services.  This  sum  the  trustees  of  the  Academy 
placed  to  his  credit  in  the  Curryville  Bank ;  but,  in 
consequence  of  a  recent  enactment,  designed  to  rob 
and  annoy  loyal  men,  he  could  not  draw  the  money 
without  appearing  personally,  and  first  taking  the  oath 
of  allegiance  to  the  confederate  government.  This,  of 
course,  was  out  of  the  question. 

Meanwhile  he  learned  to  rough  it  on  the  mountain 
with  the  fugitives.  Pomp  taught  him  the  use  of  the 
rifle,  and  he  was  soon  able  to  shoot,  dress,  and  cook 
his  own  dinner.  He  grew  robust  with  the  exercise 
and  exposure.  But  every  day  his  longing  eyes  turned 
towards  the  valley  where  the  friends  were  whom  h& 
loved,  and  whom  he  resolved  at  all  hazards  to  visit 
again,  if  for  the  last  time. 

At  length,  one  morning  at  breakfast,  he  informed 
13* 


150     PEXN'S    FOOT  KNOCKS   DOWN  A    MUSKET. 

Pomp  and  Cudjo  of  his  intention  to  leave  them, — to 
return  secretly  to  the  village,  place  himself  under  the  pro- 
tection of  certain  Unionists  he  knew,  and  attempt,  with 
their  assistance,  to  make  his  way  out  of  the  state. 

"  Why  go  down  there  at  all?"  said  Pomp.  "If  you 
are  determined  to  leave  us,  let  me  be  your  guide.  I  will 
take  you  over  the  mountains  into  Kentucky,  where  you 
will  be  safe.  It  will  be  a  long,  hard  journey  ;  but  you 
are  strong  now  ;  we  will  take  it  leisurely,  killing  our 
game  by  the  way." 

"  You  are  very  kind  —  and " 

Penn  blushed  and  stammered.  The  truth  was,  he 
was  willing  to  risk  his  life  to  see  Virginia  once  more ; 
and  the  thought  of  quitting  the  state  without  bidding 
her  good  by  was  intolerable  to  him. 

"  And  what  ?  "  said  Pomp,  smiling  intelligently. 

"  And  I  may  possibly  be  glad  to  accept  your  pro- 
posal. But  I  am  determined  to  try  the  other  way  first." 

Both  Pomp  and  Cudjo  endeavored  to  dissuade  him 
from  the  undertaking,  but  in  vain.  That  evening  he 
took  his  departure.  The  blacks  accompanied  him  to 
the  foot  of  the  mountain.  Notwithstanding  the  friend- 
ship and  gratitude  he  had  all  along  felt  towards  them,  he 
had  not  foreseen  how  painful  would  be  the  separation 
from  them. 

"  I  never  quitted  friends  more  reluctantly ! "  he  said, 
choked  with  his  emotion.  "  Never,  never  shall  I  forget 
you  —  never  shall  I  forget  those  rambles  on  the  moun- 


PENN'S    FOOT  KNOCKS   DOWX   A    MUSKET.     151 

tains,  those  days  and  nights  in  the  cave  !  Let  me  hope 
we  shall  meet  again,  when  I  can  make  you  some  return 
for  your  kindness." 

"  We  may  meet  again,  and  sooner  than  you  suppose," 
said  Pomp.  "  If  you  find  escape  too  difficult,  be  sure 
and  come  back  to  us.  Ah,  I  seem  to  foresee  that  you 
will  come  back  !  " 

With  this  prediction  ringing  in  his  ears,  and  filling 
him  with  vague  forebodings,  Penn  went  his  way ;  while 
the  negroes,  having  shaken  hands  with  him  in  sorrowful 
silence,  returned  to  their  savage  mountain  home,  which 
had  never  looked  so  lonely  to  them  as  now,  since  their 
beloved  and  gentle  guest  had  departed. 

The  night  was  not  dark,  and  Penn,  having  been 
guided  to  a  bridle-path  that  led  to  the  town,  experi- 
enced no  difficulty  in  finding  his  way  on  alone.  He  ap- 
proached the  minister's  house  from  the  fields.  Although 
late  in  the  evening,  the  windows  were  still  lighted. 
He  was  surprised  to  see  men  walking  to  and  fro  by  the 
house,  and  to  hear  their  footsteps  on  the  piazza  floor. 
He  drew  near  enough  to  discern  that  they  carried 
muskets.  Then  the  truth  flashed  upon  him :  they  were 
soldiers  guarding  the  house. 

Whether  they  were  there  to  protect  the  venerable 
Unionist  from  mob-violence,  or  to  prevent  his  escape, 
Penn  could  only  conjecture.  In  either  case  it  would  have 
been  extremely  indiscreet  for  him  to  enter  the  house. 
Bitter  disappointment  filled  him,  mingled  with  apprehen- 


152     PJSXN'S   FOOT  KNOCKS   DOWN  A    MUSKET. 

sions  for  the  safety  of  his  friends,  and  remorse  at  the 
thought  that  he  himself  had,  although  unintentionally, 
been  instrumental  in  drawing  down  upon  them  the  ven- 
geance of  the  secessionists. 

Penn  next  thought  of  Stackridge.  It  was  indeed 
upon  that  sturdy  patriot  that  he  relied  chiefly  for  aid 
in  leaving  the  state.  He  took  a  last,  lingering  look  at 
the  minister's  house,  —  the  windows  whose  cheerful 
light  had  so  often  greeted  him  on  his  way  thither,  in 
those  delightful  winter  evenings  which  were  gone,  never 
to  return,  —  the  soldiers  on  the  piazza,  symbolizing  the 
reign  of  terror  that  had  commenced,  —  and  with  a  deep 
inward  prayer  that  God  would  shield  with  his  all-pow- 
erful hand  the  beleaguered  family,  he  once  more  crossed 
the  fields. 

By  a  circuitous  route  he  came  in  sight  of  Stack- 
ridge's  house.  There  were  lights  there  also,  although 
it  must  have  been  now  near  midnight.  And  as  Penn 
discerned  them,  he  became  aware  of  loud  voices  en- 
gaged in  angry  altercation  around  the  farmer's  door. 
It  was  no  time  for  him  to  approach.  He  stole  away 
as  noiselessly  as  he  had  come.  In  the  still,  quiet  night 
be  paused,  asking  himself  what  he  should  do. 

The  Academy  was  not  far  off.  He  remembered  that 
he  had  left  there,  among  other  things,  a  pocket  Bible, 
a  gift  from  his  sister,  which  he  wished  to  preserve. 
Perhaps  it  was  there  still;  perhaps  he  could  get  in 
and  recover  it  At  all  events,  he  had  plenty  of 


PEtflf'S    FOOT  KNOCKS   DOWN  A    MUSKET.     153 

leisure  on  his  hands,  and  could  afford  to  make  the 
trial. 

He  heard  the  mounted  patrol  pass  hy,  and  waited  for 
the  sound  of  hoofs  to  die  in  the  distance.  Then  cau- 
tiously he  drew  near  the  gloomy  and  silent  school-house. 
Xofc  doubting  but  the  door  was  locked,  —  for  he  still  had 
the  key  with  him  which  he  had  turned  for  the  last  time 
when  he  walked  out  in  defiance  of  the  lynchers,  —  he  re- 
solved not  to  unlock  it,  but  to  keep  in  the  rear  of  the 
building,  and  enter,  if  possible,  by  a  window. 

The  window  was  unfastened,  as  it  had  ever  remained 
since  he  had  opened  it,  on  that  memorable  occasion,  to 
communicate  with  Carl.  Softly  he  raised  the  sash,  and 
softly  he  crept  in.  His  foot,  however,  struck  an  object 
on  the  desk,  and  swept  it  down.  It  fell  with  a  loud, 
rattling  sound  upon  the  floor. 

It  was  a  musket ;  the  owner  of  which  bounded  up 
on  the  instant  from  a  bench  where  he  was  lying,  and 
seized  Penn  by  the  leg.  The  school-house  had  been 
turned  into  a  barrack-room  for  recruits,  and  the  late 
master  found  that  he  had  descended  upon  a  squad  of 
confederate  soldiers. 

Lights  were  struck,  and  the  sleepy  sentinels,  rubbing 
their  eyes  open,  recognized,  struggling  in  the  arms  of 
their  companion,  the  unfortunate  young  Quaker. 

"  I  knowed  'twas  him !  I  knowed  'twas  him ! "  cried 
his  overjoyed  captor,  who  proved  to  be  no  other  than 
Silas  Ropes's  worthy  friend  Gad.  "  I  heern  him  gittin' 


154     PJSNtf'S   FOOT  KNOCKS   DOWN  A    MUSKET. 

inter  the  winder,  but  I  kept  dark  till  he  knocked  my  gun 
down  ;  then  I  grabbed  him  !  He's  a  traitor,  and  this  time 
will  meet  a  traitor's  doom !  " 

"  My  friends,"  said  Penn,  recovering  from  the  agita- 
tion of  his  first  surprise  and  struggle,  "  I  am  in  your 
power.  It  is  perhaps  the  best  thing  that  could  happen  to 
me ;  for  I  have  committed  no  crime,  and  I  cannot  doubt 
but  that  I  shall  receive  justice  all  the  sooner  for  this  acci- 
dent. You  need  not  take  the  trouble  to  bind  me ;  I  shall 
not  attempt  to  escape." 

His  captors,  however,  among  whom  he  recognized  with 
some  uneasiness  more  than  one  of  those  who  had  been 
engaged  in  lynching  him,  persisted  in  binding  him  upon 
a  bench,  in  no  very  comfortable  position,  and  then  set  a 
guard  over  him  for  the  remainder  of  the  night 


CONDEMNED    TO    DEATH.  155 


XVIII. 


CONDEMNED    TO    DEATH. 


ARLY  the  next  morning  Virg'nia  Villars 
overhea)d  the  soldiers  conversh  g  on  the 
piazza.  The  mention  of  a  certain  name  ar- 
rested her  attention.  She  listened :  what  they  said  ter- 
rified her.  Penn  Hapgood  had  been  apprehended  during 
the  night,  and  his  trial  by  drum-head  court-martial  was 
at  that  moment  proceeding. 

"  Mr.  Pepperill ! "  she  called,  in  a  scarcely  audible 
whisper ;  and,  looking  around,  Daniel  saw  her  alarmed 
face  at  the  window. 

Daniel  was  one  of  the  soldiers  who  had  been  detailed 
to  guard  the  house.  Strongly  against  his  will,  he  had 
been  compelled  to  enlist,  in  order  to  avoid  the  persecu- 
tions of  his  secession  neighbors.  Such  was  already  be- 
coming the  fate  of  many  whose  hearts  were  not  in  the 
cause,  whose  sympathies  were  all  with  the  government 
against  which  they  were  forced  to  rebel. 

"  What,  marm  ?  "  said  Pepperill,  meekly. 


156  CONDEMNED    TO   DEATH. 

"  Is  it  true  what  that  man  is  saying  ? " 

"About  the  schoolmaster?  I  —  I'm  afeard  it  ar  true' 
They've  cotched  him,  marm,  and  there's  men  that's  swore 
the  death  of  him,  marm-" 

Virginia  flew  to  inform  her  fattier.  The  old  man  rose 
up  instantly,  forgetting  his  blind-ness,  forgetting  his  own 
feebleness,  and  the  danger  into  which  he  would  have 
rushed,  to  go  and  plead  Penn's  cause. 

Fortunately,  perhaps,  for  him,  the  guard  crossed  their 
muskets  before  him,  refusing  to  let  him  pass.  Their 
orders  were,  not  only  to  defend  the  house,  but  also  to 
prevent  his  leaving  it. 

"  Then  I  will  go  alone  !  "  said  Carl,  who  was  to  have 
been  his  guide.  And  scarcely  waiting  to  receive  instruc- 
tions from  Virginia  and  her  father,  he  ran  out,  slipping 
between  the  soldiers,  who  had  no  orders  to  detain  any 
person  but  the  minister,  and  ran  to  the  Academy. 

The  mockery,  of  a  trial  was  over.  The  prisoner  had 
been  condemned.  The  penalty  pronounced  against  him 
was  death.  Already  the  noose  was  dangling  from  a  tree, 
and  some  soldiers  were  bringing  from  the  school-house  a 
table  to  serve  as  a  scaffold.  Silas  Ropes,  who  had  a 
feather  stuck  in  his  cap,  and  wore  an  old  rusty  scabbard 
at  his  side,  and  flourished  a  sword,  enjoying  the  title  of 
"lieutenant,"  obtained  for  him  through  Bythewood's 
influence  ;  Lysander  Sprowl,  who  had  been  honored  with 
a  captaincy  from  the  same  source,  and  who,  though  a 
forger,  and  late  a  fugitive  from  justice,  now  boldly  defie 


CONDEMNED    TO   DEATH.  157 

the  power  of  the  civil  authorities  to  arrest  him,  trusting 
to  that  atrocious  policy  of  the  confederate  government 
which  virtually  proclaimed  to  the  robber  and  murderer, 
"  Become,  now,  a  traitor  to  your  country,  and  all  other 
crimes  shall  be  forgiven  you;"  —  these,  and  other  per- 
sons of  like  character,  appeared  chiefly  active  in  Penn's 
case.  That  they  had  no  right  whatever  to  constitute 
themselves  a  court-martial,  and  bring  him  to  trial,  they 
knew  perfectly  well.  They  had  not  waited  even  for  a 
shadow  of  authority  from  their  commanding  officer. 
What  they  were  about  to  do  was  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  murder. 

Pcnn,  with  his  hands  tied  behind  him,  and  surrounded 
by  a  violent  rabble,  some  armed,  and  others  unarmed, 
was  already  mounted  upon  the  table,  when  Carl  arrived, 
and  attempted  to  force  his  way  through  the  crowd. 

"  Feller-citizens  and  soldiers  !"  cried  Lieutenant  Ropes, 
standing  on  a  chair  beside  the  scaffold,  "  this  here  man 
has  jest  been  proved  to  be  a  traitor  and  a  spy,  and  he  is 
about  to  expatiate  his  guilt  on  the  gallus." 

Two  men  then  mounted  the  table,  passed  the  noose 
over  Penn's  neck,  drew  it  close,  and  leaped  down  again. 

"  Now,"  said  Ropes,  "  if  you've  got  any  confession  to 
make  'fore  the  table  is  jerked  out  from  under  ye,  you 
can  ease  your  mind.  Only  le'  me  suggest,  if  you  don't 
mean  to  confess,  you'd  better  hold  yer  tongue." 

Penn,  pale,  but  perfectly  self-possessed,  expecting  no 
mercy,  no  reprieve,  made  answer  in  a  clear,  strong  voice, — 
14 


!58  CONDEMNED    TO    DEATH. 

"  I  can't  confess,  for  I  am  not  guilty.  I  die  au  inno- 
cent man.  I  appeal  to  Heaven,  before  whose  bar  we 
must  all  appear,  for  the  justice  you  deny  me." 

In  his  shirt  sleeves,  his  head  uncovered,  his  feet  bare, 
his  naked  throat  enclosed  by  the  murderous  cord,  his 
hands  bound  behind  him,  he  stood  awaiting  his  fate. 
Carl  in  the  mean  time  struggled  in  vain  to  break  through 
the  ring  of  soldiers  that  surrounded  the  extemporized 
scaffold,  —  screamed  in  vain  to  obtain  a  hearing. 

"  Let  him  go,  and  you  may  hang  me  in  his  place ! " 

The  soldiers  answered  with  a  brutal  laugh,  —  as  if 
there  would  be  any  satisfaction  in  hanging  him !  But 
the  offer  of  self-sacrifice  on  the  part  of  the  devoted  Carl 
touched  one  heart,  at  least.  Penn,  who  had  maintained 
a  firm  demeanor  up  to  this  time,  was  almost  un- 
manned by  it. 

"  God  bless  you,  dear  Carl !  Remember  that  I  loved 
you.  Be  always  honest  and  upright ;  then,  if  you  die  the 
victim  of  wrong,  it  will  be  your  oppressors,  not  you,  who 
will  be  most  unhappy.  Good  by,  dear  Carl.  Bear  my 
farewell  to  those  we  love.  Don't  stay  and  see  me  die,  I 
entreat  you ! " 

Yet  Carl  staid,  sobbing  with  grief  and  rage. 

•'  Why  don't  you  hurry  up  this  business  ?  "  cried  Ly- 
<?ander  Sprowl,  angrily,  coming  out  of  the  school-house. 
"  Somebody  tie  a  handkerchief  over  his  eyes,  and  get 
through  some  time  to-day." 

"  All  right,  cap'm,"  said  Ropes.      "  Make  ready  now, 


CONDEMNED    TO    DEATH.  159 

boys,  and  take  away  this  table  in  a  hurry,  when  I  give 
the  word." 

"  Hold  on,  there  !  What's  going  on  ?  "  cried  an  un- 
expected voice,  and  a  recruiting  officer  from  the  village 
made  his  appearance,  riding  up  on  a  white  horse. 

The  summary  proceedings  were  stayed,  and  the  case 
explained.  The  man  listened  with  an  air  of  grim  official 
importance,  his  coarse  red  countenance  betraying  not  a 
gleam  of  sympathy  with  the  prisoner.  Yet  being  the 
superior  in  rank  to  any  officer  present  (Silas  called  him 
"  kunnel"),  besides  being  the  only  one  of  them  all  who 
had  been  regularly  commissioned  by  the  confederate  gov- 
ernment, this  man  held  Penn's  fate  in  his  hands. 

"  Hanging's  too  good  for  such  scoundrels ! "  he  said, 
frowning  at  the  prisoner.  "  As  for  this  particular  case, 
there's  only  one  thing  to  be  said :  his  life  shall  be  spared 
on  only  one  condition." 

Carl's  heart  almost  stood  still,  in  his  eagerness  to  lis- 
ten. Even  Penn  felt  a  faint — a  very  faint  —  pulse  of 
hope  in  his  breast.  The  "kunnel"  went  on. 

"  Let  him  take  his  choice  —  either  to  hang,  or  enlist. 
What  do  you  say,  youngster  ?  Which  do  you  prefer  — 
the  death  of  a  traitor,  or  the  glorious  career  of  a  soldier 
in  the  confederate  army  ? " 

"  It  is  impossible  for  me,  sir,"  said  Penn,  in  a  voice  of 
deep  feeling  and  unalterable  conviction  — "  it  is  impos- 
sible for  me  to  bear  arms  against  my  country  ! " 

"  But  the  Confederate  States  shall  be  your  country, 
and  a  country  to  be  proud  of!  "  said  the  man. 


160  CONDEMNED    TO   DEATH. 

"  I  am  a  citizen  of  the  United  States  ;  to  the  Uni- 
ted States  I  owe  allegiance,"  said  Penn.  "  So  far  from 
being  a  traitor,  I  am  willing  to  die  rather  than  ap^ 
pear  one." 

"  Then  you  won't  enlist  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Not  even  to  save  your  life  ? " 

"  Not  even  to  save  my  life  !  " 

"  Then,"  growled  the  man,  turning  away,  "  if  you  will 
be  such  a  fool,  I've  nothing  more  to  say." . 

So  it  only  remained  for  Penn  to  submit  quietly  to  his 
fate.  The  executioners  laid  hold  of  the  table,  and  waited 
for  the  order  to  remove  it. 

But  just  then  Carl,  breaking  through  the  crowd,  threw 
himself  before  the  officer's  horse. 

"  O,  Colonel  Derring  !  hear  me  —  von  vord  !  " 

"  Von  vord ! "  repeated  the  officer,  with  a  coarse 
laugh,  mocking  him.  "  What's  that,  you  Dutchman  ?  " 

"  You  vill  let  him  go,  and  I  shall  wolunteer  in  his 
place  !  "  said  Carl. 

"  You  !  "  The  officer  regarded  him  critically.  Carl, 
though  so  young,  was  very  sturdy.  "  You  offer  yourself 
as  a  substitute,  eh,  if  I  will  spare  his  life  ? " 

"  Carl !  "  cried  Penn,  "  I  forbid  you  !  You  shall  not 
commit  that  sin  for  me  !  Better  a  thousand  times  that  I 
should  die  than  that  you  should  be  a  rebel  in  arms  against 
your  country." 

"  I    have    no    country,"    answered    Carl,   ingeniously 


CONDEMNED    TO   DEATH.  161 

excusing  himself.  "  I  am  vot  this  man  says,  a  Tuch- 
man.  I  vill  enlisht  mit  him,  and  he  vill  shpare  your 
life." 

"  Boy,  it's  a  bargain,"  said  Colonel  Derring,  whose 
passion  for  obtaining  recruits  overruled  every  other  con- 
sideration. "  Cut  that  fellow's  cords,  lieutenant,  and  let 
him  go.  Come  along  with  me,  Dutchy." 

Ropes  obeyed,  and  Penn,  bewildered,  almost  stunned, 
by  the  sudden  change  in  his  destiny,  saw  himself  released, 
and  beheld,  as  in  a  dream,  poor  Carl  marching  off  as  his 
substitute  to  the  recruiting  station. 

"  Now  let  me  give  you  one  word  of  advice,"  said  Cap- 
tain Sprowl  in  his  ear.  "  Don't  let  another  night  find 
you  within  twenty  miles  of  that  halter  there,  if  you 
wouldn't  have  your  neck  in  it  again." 

"  Will  you  give  me  a  safe  conduct  ?  "  said  Penn,  who 
thought  the  advice  excellent,  and  would  have  been  only 
too  glad  to  act  upon  it. 

"  I've  no  authority,"  said  Sprowl.  "  You  must  take 
care  of  yourself." 

Penn  looked  around  upon  the  ferocious,  disappointed 
faces  watching  him,  and  felt  that  he  might  about  as  well 
have  been  despatched  in  the  first  place,  as  to  be  let  loose 
in  the  midst  of  such  a  pack  of  wolves  thirsting  for  his 
blood.  He  did  not  despair,  however,  but,  putting  on  his 
clothes,  determined  to  make  one  final  and  desperata 
effort  to  escape. 

14* 


162  THE  ESCAPE. 


XIX. 


THE  ESCAPE. 


A  L  K  I N  G  off  quickly  across  the  field  towards 
Mrs.  Sprawl's  house,  he  turned  suddenly  aside 
from  the  path  and  plunged  into  the  woods. 

He  soon  perceived  that  he  was  followed.  A  man  — 
only  one  —  came  through  the  undergrowth.  Penn 
stopped.  "God  forgive  me!"  he  said  within  himself; 
"  but  this  is  more  than  human  nature  can  bear!  "  He 
had  been,  as  it  were,  smitten  on  one  cheek  and  on  the 
other  also :  it  was  time  to  smite  back.  He  picked  up  a 
club  :  his  nerves  became  like  steel  as  he  grasped  it :  his 
eyes  flashed  fire. 

The  man  advanced  ;  he  was  unarmed.  Suddenly  Penn 
dropped  his  club,  and  uttered  a  cry  of  joy.  It  was  his 
friend  Stackridge. 

"  What !  the  Quaker  will  fight  ? "  said  the  farmer, 
with  a  grim  smile. 

"•  That  shows,"  said  Penn,  bursting  into  tears  as  he 
wrung  the  farmer's  hand,  "  that  I  have  been  driven 
nearly  insane !  " 


THE   ESCAPE.  IgS 

"  It  shows  that  some  of  the  insanity  has  been  driven 
out  of  you  !  "  replied  Stackridge,  beginning  to  have  hopes 
of  him.  "  If  you  had  taken  my  pistol  and  used  it  freely 
in  the  first  place,  or  at  least  shown  a  good  will  to  use  itv 
you'd  have  proved  yourself  a  good  deal  more  of  a  man  in 
my  estimation,  and  been  quite  as  well  off." 

"  Perhaps,"  murmured  Penn,  convinced  that  this  pas- 
sive  submission  to  martyrdom  was  but  a  sorry  part  to  play. 

"  But  now  to  business,"  said  Stackridge.  "  You  must 
get  away  as  quickly  and  secretly  as  possible,  unless  you 
mean  to  stay  and  fight  it  out.  I  am  here  to  help  you.  I 
have  a  horse  in  the  woods  here,  at  your  disposal.  I 
thought  there  might  be  such  a  thing  as  your  slipping 
through  their  hands,  and  so  I  took  this  precaution.  I 
will  show  you  a  bridle-road  that  will  take  you  to  the 
house  of  a  friend  of  mine,  who  is  a  hearty  Unionist. 
You  can  leave  my  horse  with  him.  He  will  help  you  on 
to  the  house  of  some  friend  of  his,  who  will  do  the  same, 
and  so  you  will  manage  to  get  out  of  the  state.  I  advise 
you  to  travel  by  night,  as  a  general  thing  ;  but  just  now  it 
seems  necessary  that  you  should  see  a  little  hard  riding 
by  daylight.  You'll  find  some  luncheon  in  the  saddle- 
bags. When  you  get  into  some  pretty  thick  woods,  leave 
the  road,  and  find  a  good  place  to  tie  up  till  night ;  then 
go  on  cautiously  to  my  friend's  house.  I'll  give  you  full 
directions,  while  we're  finding  the  horse." 

They  made  haste  to  the  spot  where  the  animal  was  tied. 

"  He  has  been  well  fed,"  said  the  farmer.      "  You  v.  il 


164  THE   ESCAPE. 

water  him  at  the  first  brook  you  cross,  and  let  him 
browse  when  you  stop.  Now  just  trade  that  coat  for  one 
that  will  make  you  look  a  little  less  like  a  Quaker  school- 
master." 

He  had  brought  one  of  his  own  coats,  which  he  mad« 
Penn  put  on,  and  then  exchanged  hats  with  him.  Penn 
was  admirably  disguised.  Brief,  then,  were  the  thanks 
he  uttered  from  his  overflowing  heart,  short  the  leave- 
takings.  He  was  mounted.  Stackridge  led  the  horse 
through  the  bushes  to  the  bridle-path. 

"  Now,  don't  let  the  grass  grow  under  your  feet  till  you 
are  at  least  five  miles  away.  If  you  meet  anybody,  get 
along  without  words  if  you  can  ;  if  you  can't,  let  words 
come  to  blows  as  quick  as  you  please,  and  then  put  faith 
in  Dobbin's  heels." 

Again,  for  the  last  time,  he  made  Penn  the  offer  of  a 
pistol.  There  was  no  leisure  for  idle  arguments  on  the 
subject.  The  weapon  was  accepted.  The  two  wrung 
each  other's  hands  in  silence  :  there  were  tears  in  the 
eyes  of  both.  Then  Stackridge  gave  Dobbin  a  resound- 
ing slap,  and  the  horse  bounded  away,  bearing  his  rider 
swiftly  out  of  sight  in  the  woods. 

All  this  had  passed  so  rapidly  that  Penn  had  scarcely 
time  to  think  of  any  thing  but  the  necessity  of  immedi- 
ate flight.  But  during  that  solitary  ride  through  the  for- 
est he  had  ample  leisure  for  reflection.  He  thought  of  the 
mountain  cave,  whose  gloomy  but  quiet  shelter,  whose 
dark  but  nevertheless  humane  and  hospitable  inmates  he 


THE   ESCAPE.  165 

seemed  to  have  quitted  weeks  ago,  so  crowded  with  expe- 
riences had  been  the  few  hours  since  last  he  shook  Pomp 
and  Cudjo  by  the  hand.  He  thought  of  Virginia  and  her 
father,  to  visit  whom  for  perhaps  the  last  time  he  had 
incurred  the  risk  of  descending  into  the  valley ;  whom 
now  he  felt,  with  a  strangely  swelling  heart,  that  he 
might  never  see  again.  And  he  thought  with  grief,  pity, 
and  remorse  of  Carl,  a  rebel  now  for  his  sake. 

These  things,  and  many  more,  agitated  him  as  he 
spurred  the  farmer's  horse  along  the  narrow,  shaded, 
lonesome  path.  He  met  an  old  man  on  horseback,  with 
a  bright-faced  girl  riding  behind  him  on  the  crupper,  who 
bade  him.  a  pleasant  good  morning,  and  pursued  their 
way.  Next  came  some  boys  driving  mules  laden  with 
sacks  of  corn.  At  last  Penn  saw  two  men  in  butternut 
suits  with  muskets  on  their  shoulders.  He  knew  by  their 
looks  that  they  were  secessionists  hastening  to  join  their 
friends  in  town.  They  regarded  him  suspiciously  as  he 
came  galloping  up.  Penn  perceived  that  some  off-hand 
word  was  necessary  in  passing  them. 

"  Hurry  on  with  those  guns  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  they  are 
wanted  ! " 

And  he  dashed  away,  as  if  his  sole  business  was  to 
hurry  up  guns  for  the  confederate  cause. 

He  met  with  no  other  adventure  that  day.  He  fol- 
lowed Stackridge's  directions  implicitly,  and  at  evening, 
leaving  his  horse  tied  in  the  woods,  approached  on  foot 
the  house  to  which  he  had  been  sent. 


136  THE   ESCAPE. 

lie  was  cordially  received  by  the  same  old  man  whom 
he  had  seen  riding  to  town  in  the  morning  with  a  bright- 
faced  girl  clinging  behind  him.  At  a  hint  from  Stack- 
ridge  the  man  had  hastily  ridden  home  again,  passing 
Penn  at  noon  while  he  lay  hidden  in  the  woods  ;  and 
here  he  was,  honest,  friendly,  vigilant,  to  receive  and 
protect  his  guest. 

"  You  did  well,"  he  said,  "  to  turn  off  up  the  moun- 
tain ;  for  I  am  not  the  only  man  that  passed  you  there. 
You  have  been  pursued.  Three  persons  have  gone  on 
after  you.  I  met  them  as  I  was  going  into  town ; 
they  inquired  of  me  if  I  had  seen  you,  and  when  I  got 
home  I  found  they  had  passed  here  in  search  of  you. 
They  have  not  yet  gone  back." 

This  was  unpleasant  news.  Yet  Penn  was  soon  con- 
vinced that  he  had  been  extremely  fortunate  in  thus 
throwing  his  pursuers  off  his  track.  It  was  far  better 
that  they  should  have  gone  on  before  him,  than  that 
they  should  be  following  close  upon  his  heels. 

He  staid  with  the  farmer  all  night,  and  departed  with 
him  early  the  next  morning  to  pursue  his  journey.  It 
was  not  safe  for  him  to  keep  the  road,  for  he  might  at 
any  moment  meet  his  pursuers  returning  ;  accordingly, 
the  old  man  showed  him  a  circuitous  route  along  the 
base  of  the  mountains,  which  could  be  travelled  only  on 
foot,  and  by  daylight. 

"  Here  I  leave  you,"  said  his  kind  old  guide,  when  they 
had  reached  the  banks  of  a  mountain  stream.  "  Follow 


THE   ESCAPE.  167 

this  run,  and  it  will  take  you  around  to  the  road,  about  a 
mile  this  side  of  my  brother's  house.  There's  a  bridge 
near  which  you  can  wait,  when  you  get  to  it.  If  your 
pursuers  go  back  past  my  house,  then  I  will  harness  up 
and  drive  on  to  the  bridge,  and  water  my  horse  there. 
You  will  see  me,  and  get  in  to  ride,  and  I  will  take  you 
to  my  brother's,  and  make  some  arrangement  for  helping 
you  on  still  farther  to  night." 

So  they  parted  ;  the  lonely  fugitive  feeling  that  the 
kindness  of  a  few  such  men,  scattered  like  salt  through  the 
state,  was  enough  to  redeem  it  from  the  fate  of  Sodom, 
which  otherwise,  by  its  barbarism  and  injustice,  it  would 
have  seemed  to  deserve. 

Following  the  stream  in  its  windings  through  a  wilder- 
ness of  thickets  and  rocks,  he  reached  the  bridge  about 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  His  progress  had  been  lei- 
surely. The  day  was  warm,  bright,  and  tranquil.  The 
stream  poured  over  ledges,  or  gushed  among  mossy 
stones,  or  tumbled  down  jagged  rocks  in  flashing  cas- 
cades. Its  music  filled  him  with  memories  of  home,  with 
love  that  swelled  his  heart  to  tears,  with  longings  for 
peace  and  rest.  Its  coolness  and  beauty  made  a  little 
Sabbath  in  his  soul,  a  pause  of  holy  calm,  in  the  midst  of 
the  fear  and  tumult  that  lay  before  and  behind  him. 

During  that  long,  solitary  ramble  he  had  pondered 
much  the  great  question  which  had  of  late  agitated  his 
mind  —  the  question  which,  in  peaceful  days,  he  had 
thought  settled  with  his  own  conscience  forever.  But 


168  THE    ESCAPE. 

days  of  stern  experience  play  sad  havoc  with  theories  not 
founded  in  experience.  In  all  the  ordinary  emergencies 
of  life  Penn  had  found  the  doctrine  of  non-resistance  to 
evil,  of  overcoming  evil  with  good,  beautiful  and  sublime. 
But  had  he  not  the  morning  before  given  way  to  a  natural 
impulse,  when  he  seized  a  club,  firmly  resolved  to  oppose 
force  with  force  ?  The  recollection  of  that  incident  had 
led  him  into  a  singular  train  of  reasoning. 

"  I  know,"  he  said,  "  that  it  is  still  the  highest  doc- 
trine. But  am  I  equal  to  it  ?  Can  I,  under  all  circum- 
stances, live  up  to  it  ?  I  have  seen  something  of  the 
power  and  recklessness  of  the  faction  that  would  destroy 
my  country.  Would  I  wish  to  see  my  country  submit : 
Never  !  Such  submission  would  be  the  most  unchristian 
thing  it  could  do.  It  would  be  the  abandonment  of  the 
cause  of  liberty  ;  it  would  be  to  deliver  up  the  whole  land 
to  the  blighting  despotism  of  slavery  ;  it  would  postpone 
the  millennium  I  hope  for  thousands  of  years.  I  see 
no  other  way  than  that  the  nation  must  resist ;  and  what 
I  would  have  the  nation  do  I  should  be  prepared,  if  called 
upon,  to  do  myself.  If  this  government  were  a  Christian 
government  I  would  have  it  use  only  Christian  weapons, 
and  no  doubt  those  would  be  effectual  for  its  preserva- 
tion. But  there  never  was  a  Christian  government  yet, 
and  probably  there  will  not  be  for  an  age  or  two.  Gov- 
ernments are  all  founded  on  human  policy,  selfishness, 
and  force.  Or  if  /  was  entirely  a  Christian,  then  1 
would  have  no  temptation,  and  no  right,  to  use  any  but 


THE    ESCAPE.  16ft 

spiritual  weapons.  But  until  I  attain  to  these,  may  I  not 
use  such  weapons  as  I  have  ?  " 

These  thoughts  revolved  slowly  and  somewhat  con- 
fusedly in  the  young  man's  mind,  when  an  incident 
occurred  to  bring  form,  sharply  and  suddenly,  out  of  that 
chaos. 

He  had  reached  the  bridge.  He  looked  up  and  down 
the  road,  and  saw  no  human  being.  It  was  hardly  time 
to  expect  the  farmer  yet ;  so  he  climbed  down  upon 
some  dry  stones  in  the  bed  of  the  stream,  where  he  could 
watch  for  his  coming,  and  be  at  the  same  time  hidden 
from  view  and  sheltered  from  the  sun. 

He  had  not  been  long  in  that  situation  when  he  heard 
the  sounds  of  hoofs.  It  was  not  his  white-haired  farmer 
whom  he  saw  approaching,  but  two  men  on  horseback. 
They  were  coming  from  the  same  direction  in  which  he 
was  looking  for  the  old  man.  As  they  drew  near,  he  dis- 
covered that  one  was  a  negro.  The  face  of  the  other  he 
recognized  shortly  afterwards.  It  was  that  of  Mr.  Augus- 
tus Bythewood,  who  was  evidently  taking  advantage  of 
the  fine  weather  to  make  a  little  journey,  accompanied  bj 
a  black  servant. 

Penn's  heart  contracted  within  him  as  he  thought  of 
his  friend  Pomp,  and  of  the  wrongs  he  had  suffered  at 
this  man's  hands.  He  thought  of  his  own  safety  too,  and 
crept  under  the  bridge.  He  had  time,  however,  before 
he  disappeared,  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  three  other  horse- 
men coming  from  the  north.  His  heart  beat  fast,  foi 
15 


170  THE    ESCAPE. 

he  knew  in  an  instant  that  these  were  his  pursuers 
returning. 

He  had  already  prepared  for  himself  a  good  hiding- 
place,  in  a  cavity  between  the  two  logs  that  supported 
the  bridge.  Upon  the  butment,  close  under  the  trem- 
bling planks,  he  lay,  when  Bythewood  and  his  man  rode 
over.  The  dust  rattled  upon  him  through  the  cracks,  and 
sifted  down  into  the  stream.  The  thundering  and  shak- 
ing of  the  planks  ceased,  but  he  listened  in  vain  to  hear 
the  hoofs  of  the  two  horses  clattering  off  in  the  distance. 
To  his  alarm  he  perceived  that  Bythewood  and  his  man 
had  halted  on  the  other  side  of  the  bridge,  and  were 
going  to  water  their  horses  in  the  bed  of  the  stream- 
Clashing  and  rattling  down  the  steep,  stony  banks,  and 
plashing  into  the  water,  came  the  foam-streaked  animals. 
The  negro  rode  one,  and  led  the  other  by  the  bridle. 
There  he  sat  in  the  saddle,  watching  the  eager  drinking 
of  the  thirsty  beasts,  and  pulling  up  their  heads  occasion- 
ally to  prevent  them  from  swallowing  too  fast  or  too 
much ;  all  in  full  sight  of  the  concealed  schoolmaster. 
Bythewood,  after  dismounting,  also  walked  down  to  the 
edge  of  the  stream  in  full  view. 

Such  was  the  situation  when  the  three  horsemen  from 
the  north  arrived.  They  all  rode  their  animals  down  the 
bank  into  the  water.  Penn  had  not  been  mistaken  as  to 
their  character  and  business.  Two  of  them  were  the 
men  who  had  adjusted  the  noose  to  his  neck  the  day 
before.  The  third  was  no  less  a  personage  than  Captain 
Lysander  Sprowl.  Peim  lay  breathless  and  trembling  in 


THE    ESCAPE.  171 

his  kiding-place  ;  for  those  men  were  but  a  few  yards 
from  him,  and  all  in  such  plain  view  that  it  seemed 
inevitable  but  they  must  discover  him. 

"  What  luck  ? "  said  Bythewood,  carelessly,  seating 
himself  on  a  rock  and  lighting  a  cigar. 

"  The  rascal  has  given  us  the  slip,"  said  Lysander., 
from  his  horse.  "  I  believe  we  have  passed  him,  and  so, 
on  our  way  back,  we'll  search  the  house  of  every  man 
suspected  of  Union  sentiments.  He  started  off  with 
Stackridge's  horse,  and  we  tracked  him  easy  at  first,  but 
to-day  we  haven't  once  heard  of  him." 

"  It's  my  opinion  he  don't  intend  to  leave  the  state," 
said  Bythewood,  coolly  smoking.  "  Sam,  walk  those 
horses  up  and  down  the  road  till  I  call  you  :  I  want  a 
little  private  talk  with  the  captain." 

The  captain's  attendants  likewise  took  the  hint,  reined 
their  horses  up  out  of  the  water,  rode  over  the  shaking 
bridge  and  Penn's  head  under  it,  and  proceeded  to  search 
the  next  house  for  him,  while  Sprowl  was  conversing  with 
Augustus. 

"  Let's  go  over  the  other  side,"  said  Bythewood, 
"  where  we  can  be  in  the  shade.  The  sun  is  powerful 
hot." 

They  accordingly  walked  over  Penn's  head  a  moment 
later,  climbed  down  the  same  rocks  he  had  descended, 
picked  their  way  along  the  dry  stones  to  the  bridge,  and 
took  their  seats  in  its  shadow  beneath  him,  and  so  neai 
that  he  could  easily  have  reached  over  and  taken  the 
captain's  cap  from  his  head  ! 


172  UNDER    THE   BRIDQB. 


XX. 


UNDER   THE  BRIDGE. 


H  E  colonel  wasn't  aware  of  your  sentiments," 
said  Sprowl,  "  or  he  wouldn't  have  let  him 
off  for  fifty  substitutes." 

"  Or  if  you  and  Ropes,"  retorted  Bythewood,  "  had 
only  put  through  the  job  with  the  celerity  I  had  a  right  to 
expect  of  you,  he  would  have  been  strung  up  before  the 
colonel  had  a  chance  to .  interfere."  And  he  puffed  im- 
patiently a  cloud  of  smoke,  whose  fragrance  was  wafted 
to  the  nostrils  of  the  listener  under  the  planks. 

"  Well,"  said  Lysander,  accepting  a  cigar  from  his 
friend,  "if  he  gets  out  of  the  state,"  —  biting  off 
the  end  of  it,  —  "  and  never  shows  himself  here  again," 
—  rubbing  a  match  on  the  stones,  —  "you  ought  to  be 
satisfied.  If  he  stays,  or  comes  back,"  —  smoking,  — 
"  then  we'll  just  finish  the  little  job  we  begun." 

Penn  lay  still  as  death.  What  his  thoughts  were  I 
will  not  attempt  to  say ;  but  it  must  have  given  him 
a  curious  sensation  to  hear  the  question  of  his  life  or 


UNDER    THE   BRIDQE.  \T& 

death  thus  coolly  discussed  by  his  would-be  assassins  over 
their  cigars. 

"Where  are  you  bound?"  asked  Lysander. 

"  O,  a  little  pleasure  excursion,"  said  Bythewood. 
"  There's  to  be  some  lively  work  at  home  this  evening, 
and  I  thought  I'd  better  be  away." 

"  What's  going  on  ?  " 

"  The  colonel  is  going  to  make  some  arrests.  About 
fifteen  or  twenty  Union-shriekers  will  find  themselves 
snapped  up  before  they  think  of  it.  Stackridge  among 
the  first.  'Twas  he,  confound  him !  that  helped  the 
schoolmaster  off." 

"  Has  the  colonel  orders  to  make  the  arrests  ?  " 

"  No,  but  he  takes  the  responsibility.  It's  a  military 
necessity,  and  the  government  will  bear  him  out  in  it. 
Every  man  that  has  been  known  to  drill  in  the  Union 
Club,  and  has  refused  to  deliver  up  his  arms,  must  be 
secured.  There's  no  other  way  of  putting  down  these 
dangerous  fellows,"  said  Augustus,  running  his  jewelled 
fingers  through  his  curls. 

"  But  why  do  you  prefer  to  be  away  when  the  fun  is 
going  on?" 

"  There  may  be  somebody's  name  in  the  list  on  whose 
behalf  I  might  be  expected  to  intercede." 

"  Not  old  Villars  !  "  exclaimed  Lysander. 

"  Yes,  old  Villars  !  "  laughed  Augustus,  —  "  if  by  that 
lively  epithet  you  mean  to  designate  your  venerable 
father-in-law." 

16* 


174  UNDER    THE   BRIDGE. 

"  By  George,  though,  Gus !  ain't  it  almost  too  bad  ? 
What  will  folks  say?" 

"  Little  care  I !  Old  and  blind  as  he  is,  he  is  really  one 
of  the  most  dangerous  enemies  to  our  cause.  His  influ- 
ence is  great  with  a  certain  class,  and  he  never  misses  an 
opportunity  to  denounce  secession.  That  he  openly  talks 
treason,  and  harbors  and  encourages  traitors  arming 
against  the  confederate  government,  is  cause  sufficient 
for  arresting  him  with  the  others." 

"  Really,"  said  Sprowl,  chuckling  as  he  thought  of  it, 
"  'twill  be  better  for  our  plans  to  have  him  out  of  the 
way." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bythewood ;  "  the  girls  will  need  pro- 
tectors, and  your  wife  will  welcome  you  back  again." 

"  And  Virginia,"  added  Sprowl,  "  will  perhaps  look  a 
little  more  favorably  on  a  rich,  handsome,  influential 
fellow  like  you  !  I  see  !  I  see  !  " 

There  was  another  who  saw  too,  —  a  sudden  flash  of 
light,  as  it  were,  revealing  to  Penn  all  the  heartless, 
scheming  villany  of  the  friendly-seeming  Augustus. 
He  grasped  the  Stackridge  pistol ;  his  eyes,  glaring  in 
the  dark,  were  fixed  in  righteous  fury  on  the  elegant 
curly  head. 

"If  I  am  discovered,  I  will  surely  shoot  him ! "  he 
«aid  within  himself. 

"  The  old  man,"  suggested  Sprowl,  "  won't  live  long 
in  jail." 

"  Very  well,"    said  Bythewood.     "If   the  girls  come 


UNDER    THE    BRIDGE.  175 

«t»  c^rms,  why,  we  will  secure  their  everlasting  gratitude  by 
he'ping  him  out.  If  they  won't,  we  will  merely  promise 
to  do  everything  we  can  for  him  —  and  do  nothing." 

•'And  the  property?"  said  Lysander,  somewhat  anx- 
iously. 

"  You  shall  have  what  you  can  get  of  it,  —  I  don't  care 
for  the  property !  "  replied  By  the  wood,  with  haughty 
conrompt.  "  I  believe  the  old  man,  foreseeing  these 
troubles,  has  been  converting  his  available  means  into 
Ohio  railroad  stock.  If  so,  there  won't  be  much  for  you 
to  lay  hold  of  until  we  have  whipped  the  north." 

"  That  we'll  do  fast  enough,"  said  Lysander,  confidently. 

"  Well,  I  must  be  travelling,"   said  Augustus. 

"  And  I  must  be  looking  for  that  miserable  school- 
master." 

So  saying  the  young  men  arose  from  their  cool  seats  on 
the  stones,  —  Lysander  placing  his  hand,  to  steady  him- 
self, on  the  edge  of  the  butment  within  an  inch  of 
Penn's  leg. 

Darkness,  however,  favored  the  fugitive ;  and  they 
passed  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  bridge  without  sus- 
pecting that  they  had  held  confidential  discourse  within 
arms'  length  of  the  man  they  were  seeking  to  destroy. 
They  ascended  the  bank,  mounted  their  horses,  and  took 
leave  of  each  other,  —  Bythewood  and  his  black  man 
riding  north,  while  Sprowl  hastened  to  rejoin  his  conv 
panions  in  the  search  for  the  schoolmaster. 


176  THE   RETURN  INTO   DANGER. 


XXI. 


THE  RETURN  INTO   DANGER. 


REMBLING  with  excitement  Penn  got 
down  from  the  butment,  and  peering  over 
the  bank,  saw  his  enemies  in  the  distance. 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  Had  he  thought  only  of  his 
own  safety,  his  way  would  have  been  clear.  But  could 
he  abandon  his  friends  ?  forsake  Virginia  and  her  father 
when  the  toils  of  villany  were  tightening  around  them  ? 
leave  Stackridge  and  his  compatriots  to  their  fate, 
when  it  might  be  in  his  power  to  forewarn  and  save 
them  ? 

How  he,  alone,  suspected,  pursued,  and  sorely  in 
need  of  assistance  himself,  was  to  render  assistance  to 
others,  he  did  not  know.  He  did  not  pause  to  con- 
sider. He  put  his  faith  in  the  overruling  providence 
of  God. 

"  With  God's  aid,"  he  said,  "  I  will  save  them  or 
sacrifice  myself." 

As  for  fighting,  should  fighting    prove   necessary,  his 


THE  RETURN  INTO  DANGER.        177 

mind  was  made  up.  The  conversation  of  the  villains 
under  the  bridge  had  settled  that  question. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  waiting  for  the  friend  who  was 
to  help  him  on  his  journey,  he  leaped  up  from  under 
the  bridge,  and  set  out  at  a  fast  walk  to  follow  his 
pursuers  back  to  town. 

He  had  travelled  but  a  mile  or  two  when  he  saw  the 
farmer  driving  towards  him  in  a  wagon. 

"  Are  you  lost  ?  are  you  crazy  ?  "  cried  the  astonished 
old  man.  "  You  are  going  in  the  wrong  direction ! 
The  men  have  been  to  my  house,  searched  it,  and  passed 
on.  Get  in  !  get  in  !  " 

"  I  will,"  said  Penn  ;  "  but,  Mr.  Ellerton,  you  must 
turn  back." 

He  briefly  related  his  adventure  under  the  bridge. 
The  old  man  listened  with  increasing  amazement. 

"  You  are  right !  you  are  right !  "  he  said.  "  We 
must  get  word  to  Stackridge,  somehow !  "  And  turn- 
ing his  wagon  about,  he  drove  back  over  the  road  as 
fast  as  his  horse  could  carry  them. 

It  was  sunset  when  they  reached  his  house.  There 
they  unharnessed  his  horse  and  saddled  him.  The  old 
man  mounted. 

"  I'll  do  my  best,"  he  said,  "  to  see  Stackridge,  or 
some  of  them,  in  season.  If  I  fail,  may  be  you  will 
succeed.  But  you'd  better  keep  in  the  woods  till  dark." 

Ellerton  rode  off  at  a  fast  trot.  Penn  hastened  to  the 
woods,  where  Stackridge's  horse  was  still  concealed 


1V8  THE   RETURN  /ATO    DASGER. 

The  animal  had  been  recently  fed  and  watered,  and  wa^ 
ready  for  a  hard  ride.  The  bridle  was  soon  on  his  head, 
and  Perm  on  his  back,  and  he  was  making  his  \vay 
through  the  woods  again  towards  home. 

As  soon  as  it  was  dark,  Penn  came  out  into  the  open 
road  ;  nor  did  he  turn  aside  into  the  bridle-path  when  he 
reached  it,  because  he  wished  to  avoid  travelling  in  com- 
pany with  Ellerton,  who  was  to  take  that  route.  Ho 
also  supposed  that  Sprowl's  party  would  be  returning 
that  way.  In  this  he  was  mistaken.  Riding  at  a  gallop 
through  the  darkness,  his  heart  beating  anxiously  as  the 
first  twinkling  lights  of  the  town  began  to  appear,  he 
suddenly  became  aware  of  three  horsemen  riding  but  a 
short  distance  before  him.  They  had  evidently  been 
drinking  something  stronger  than  water  at  the  house  of 
some  good  secessionist  on  the  road,  perhaps  to  console 
themselves  for  the  loss  of  the  schoolmaster,  —  for  these 
were  the  excellent  friends  who  were  so  eager  to  meet 
with  him  again  !  They  were  merry  and  talkative,  and 
Penn,  not  ambitious  of  cultivating  their  acquaintance, 
checked  his  horse. 

It  was  too  late.  They  had  already  perceived  his  ap- 
proach, and  hailed  him. 

"What  should  he  do  ?  To  wheel  about  and  flee  would 
certainly  excite  their  suspicions  ;  they  would  be  sure  to 
pursue  him ;  and  though  he  might  escape,  his  arrival  in 
town  would  be  thus  perhaps  fatally  delayed.  The  arrest.* 
might  be  even  at  that  moment  taking  place. 


THE    RETURN   INTO    DANGER.  179 

He  reflected,  "  There  are  but  three  of  them ;  I  may 
tight  my  way  through,  if  it  comes  to  that." 

Accordingly  he  rode  boldly  up  to  the  assassins,  and  in 
a  counterfeit  voice,  answered  their  hail.  He  was  but  little 
known  to  either  of  them,  and  there  was  a  chance  that, 
in  the  darkness,  they  might  fail  to  recognize  him. 

"  Where  you  from  ?  "  demanded  Sprowl. 

"  From  a  little  this  side  of  Bald  Mountain,"  said  Perm, 
- — which  was  true  enough. 

"  Where  bound  ?  " 

"Can't  you  see  for  yourself?"  said  Penn,  assuming 
a  reckless,  independent  air,  "  I  am  following  my  horse's 
nose,  and  that  is  going  pretty  straight  into  Curryville." 

"  Glad  of  your  company,"  said  Sprowl,  riding  gayly 
alongside.  "  What's  your  business  in  town,  stranger  ?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  Penn,  "  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that 
my  business  is  to  see  if  I  and  my  horse  can  find  some- 
thing to  do  for  old  Tennessee." 

"  Ah  !    cavalry  ?  "    suggested  Lysander,  well  pleased. 

"  I  should  prefer  cavalry  service  to  any  other,"  an- 
swered Penn. 

"  There's  where  you  right,"  said  Sprowl;  and  he  pro- 
ceeded to  enlighten  Penn  on  the  prospects-  of  raising  a 
tfavalry  company  in  Curryville. 

"  Did  you  meet  any  person  on  the  road,  travelling 
north  ? " 

"  What  sort  of  a  person  ? " 

**  A  young  feller,  rather  slim,  brown  hair,  blue  eyes, 


180  THE    RETURN  INTO    DANGER. 

•with  a  half- hung  look,  a  perfect  specimen  of  a  sneaking 
abolition  schoolmaster." 

"I  —  I  don't  remember  meeting  any  such  a  person," 
said  Penn,  as  if  consulting  his  memory.  "  I  met  two 
men,  though,  this  side  of  old  Bald.  One  of  them  was 
a  rather  gentlemanly -looking  fellow ;  but  I  think  his 
hair  was  black  and  curly." 

"  The  schoolmaster's  har  is  wavy,  and  purty  dark, 
I  call  it,"  said  one  of  Sprowl's  companions. 

"  He  must  have  been  the  man ! "  said  Lysander, 
suddenly  stopping  his  horse.  "  What  sort  of  a  chap  was 
with  him  ?  Did  he  look  like  a  Union-shrieker  ? " 

"  Now  I  think  of  it,"  said  Penn,  "  if  that  man  wasn't 
a  Unionist  at  heart,  I  am  greatly  mistaken.  His  sym- 
pathies are  with  the  Lincolnites,  I  know  by  his 
looks  !  "  He  .neglected  to  add,  however,  that  the  man 
was  black. 

Sprowl  was  excited. 

"  It  was  some  tory,  piloting  the  schoolmaster  !  Boys, 
we  must  wheel  about !  It  never  '11  do  for  us  to  go 
home  as  long  as  we  can  hear  of  him  alive  in  the  state. 
Remember  the  pay  promised,  if  we  catch  him." 

"  Luck  to  you !  "  cried  Penn,  riding  on,  while  Sprowl 
turned  back  in  ludicrous  pursuit  of  his  own  worthy 
friend,  Mr.  Augustus  Bythewood,  and  his  negro  man 
Sam. 

Penn  lost  no  time  laughing  at  the  joke.  His 
heart  was  too  full  of  trouble  for  that.  It  had  seemed 


THE   RETURN  INTO   DANGER.  181 

to  him,  at  each  moment  of  delay,  that  the  blind  old 
minister  was  even  then  being  torn  from  his  home  —  that 
he  could  hear  Virginia's  sobs  of  distress  and  cries  for 
help.  He  urged  his  horse  into  a  gallop  once  more,  and 
struck  into  a  path  across  the  fields.  He  rode  to  the  edge 
of  the  orchard,  dismounted,  tied  the  horse,  and  hastened 
on  foot  to  the  house. 

The  guard  was  gone  from  the  piazza,  and  all  seemed 
quiet  about  the  premises.  The  kitchen  was  dark.  He 
advanced  quickly,  but  noiselessly,  to  the  door.  It  was 
open.  He  went  in. 

"  Toby  !  "  No  answer.  "  Carl !  Carl !  "  he  called  in  a 
louder  voice.  No  Carl  replied.  Then  he  remembered  — 
what  it  seemed  so  strange  that  he  could  even  for  an 
instant  forget  —  that  Carl  was  in  the  rebel  ranks,  for 
his  sake. 

He  had  seen  a  light  in  the  sitting-room.  He  found 
the  door,  and  knocked.  No  answer  came.  He  opened 
it  softly,  and  entered.  There  burned  the  lamp  on  the 
table  —  there  stood  the  vacant  chairs  —  he  was  alone 
in  the  deserted  room. 

"  Virginia  ! " 

He  started  at  his  own  voice,  which  sounded,  in  the 
hollow  apartment,  like  the  whisper  of  a  ghost. 

He    was    proceeding    still    farther,    wondering    at    the 

stillness,  terrified  by  his  own  forebodings,  feeling  in  his 

appalled  heart  the  contrast  between  this  night,  and  this 

strange,  furtive    visit,    and    the    happy    nights,  and    the 

16 


182  THE   RETURN  INTO    DANGER. 

many  happy  visits,  he  had  made  to  his  dear  friends 
there  only  a  few  short  months  before,  —  pausing  to 
assure  himself  that  he  was  not  walking  in  a  dream,  — 
when  he  heard  a  footstep,  a  flutter,  and  saw,  spring 
towards  him  through  the  door,  pale  as  an  apparition, 
Virginia.  Speechless  with  emotion,  she  could  not  utter 
his  name,  but  she  testified  the  joy  with  which  she 
welcomed  him  by  throwing  herself,  not  into  his  arms, 
but  upon  them,  as  he  extended  his  hands  to  greet  her. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  "    said  Penn. 

"  O,  my  father ! "  said  the  girl.  And  she  bowed 
her  face  upon  his  arm,  clinging  to  him  as  if  he  were 
her  brother,  her  only  support. 

"  Where  is  he  ? "  asked  Penn,  alarmed,  and  trem- 
bling with  sympathy  for  that  delicate,  agitated,  fair 
young  creature,  whom  sorrow  had  so  changed  since  he 
saw  her  last. 

"They  have  taken  him — the  soldiers!"   she  said. 

And  by  these  words  Pciin  knew  that  he  had  come 
loo  late. 


STACKRIDGE'S    COAT  AND    BAT.  183 


XXII. 

STACKEWGE'S    COAT   AND    HAT    GET 
AERESTED. 


^,  HE  outrage  had  been  committed  not  more 
than  twenty  minutes  before.  Toby  had  fol- 
lowed his  old  master,  to  see  what  was  to  be 
done  with  him,  and  Virginia  and  her  sister  were  in  the 
street  before  the  house,  awaiting  the  negro's  return,  when 
Penn  arrived. 

"  You  could  have  done  no  good,  even  if  you  had  come 
sooner,"  said  Virginia.  "  There  is  but  one  man  who  could 
have  prevented  this  cruelty." 

"  Why  not  send  for  him  !  " 

"  Alas  !  he  left  town  this  very  day.  He  is  a  secession- 
ist ;  but  he  has  great  influence,  and  appears  very  friendly 
to  us." 

Penn  started,  and  looked  at  her  keenly. 

"  His  name  ?  " 

"  Augustus  Bythewood." 

Penn  recoiled. 


184  STACKRIDGE'S    COAT  AND    HAT. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Virginia,  that  man  is  thy  worst  enemy  ?  I  did  not 
tell  thee  how  I  learned  that  the  arrests  were  to  be  made. 
But  I  will !  "  And  he  told  her  all. 

"  O,"  said  she,  "  if  I  had  only  believed  what  my 
heart  has  always  said  of  that  man,  and  trusted  less  to 
my  eyes  and  ears,  he  would  never  have  deceived  me  !  If 
he,  then,  is  an  enemy,  what  hope  is  there  ?  O,  my 
father ! " 

"  Do  not  despair  !  "  answered  Penn,  as  cheerfully  as  he 
could.  "  Something  may  be  done.  Stackridge  and  his 
friends  may  have  escaped.  I  will  go  and  see  if  I  can 
hear  any  thing  of  them.  Have  faith  in  our  heavenly 
Father,  my  poor  girl !  be  patient !  be  strong  !  All,  I  am 
sure,  will  yet  be  well." 

"  But  you  too  are  in  danger  !  You  must  not  go  !  "  she 
exclaimed,  instinctively  detaining  him. 

"  I  am  in  greater  danger  here,  perhaps,  than  else- 
where." 

"  True, -true  !  Go  to  your  negro  friends  in  the  moun- 
tain —  there  is  yet  time  !  go  !  "  and  she  hurriedly 
pushed  him  from  her. 

"  When  I  find  that  nothing  can  be  done  for  thy  father, 
then  I  will  return  to  Pomp  and  Cudjo  —  not  before." 

And  he  glided  out  of  the  back  door  just  as  Salina 
entered  from  the  street. 

He  left  the  horse  where  he  had  tied  him,  and  hastened 
on  foot  to  Stackridge's  house. 


STACKRIDGE'S    COAT  AND    HAT.  185 

He  approached  with  great  caution.  There  was  a  light 
burning  in  the  house,  as  on  other  summer  evenings  at 
that  hour.  The  negroes  —  for  Stackridge  was  a  slave- 
holder—  had  retired  to  their  quarters.  There  were  no 
indications  of  any  disturbance  having  taken  place.  Penn 
reconnoitred  carefully,  and,  perceiving  no  one  astir  about 
the  premises,  advanced  towards  the  door 

"  Halt !  "  shouted  a  voice  of  authority. 

And  immediately  two  men  jumped  out  from  the  well- 
curb,  within  which  they  had  been  concealed.  Others  at 
the  same  time  rushed  to  the  spot  from  dark  corners, 
where  they  had  lain  in  wait.  Almost  in  an  instant,  and 
before  he  could  recover  from  his  astonishment,  Penn 
found  himself  surrounded. 

"  You  are  our  prisoner,  Mr.  Stackridge !  "  And  half  a 
dozen  bayonets  converged  at  the  focus  of  his  breast. 

The  young  man  comprehended  the  situation  in  a  mo- 
ment. Stackridge  had  not  been  arrested  ;  he  was  absent 
from  home ;  these  ambushed  soldiers  had  been  awaiting 
his  return ;  and  they  had  mistaken  the  schoolmaster  for 
the  farmer. 

The  night  was  just  light  enough  to  enable  them  to 
recognize  the  coat  and,  hat  which  had  been  Stackridge's, 
and  which  Penn  still  wore  as  a  disguise.  Features  they 
could  not  discern  so  easily.  The  prisoner  made  no  re- 
sistance, for  that  would  have  been  useless  ;  no  outcry,  for 
that  would  have  revealed  to  them  their  mistake.  He 
subimttof1  without  a  word  ;  and  they  marched  him  away, 
16* 


186  STACKRIDGE'S    COAT  A^'D    HAT. 

just  as  his  supposed  wife  and  children  flew  to  the  door, 
calling  frantically,  "  Father  !  father  !  "  and  lamenting  his 
misfortune. 

By  proclaiming  his  own  identity,  the  prisoner  would 
have  gained  nothing,  probably,  biit  a  halter  on  the  spot. 
On  the  other  hand,  by  accepting  the  part  forced  upon 
him,  he  was  at  least  gaining  time.  It  might  be,  too,  that 
he  was  rendering  an  important  service  to  the  real  Stack- 
ridge  by  thus  withdrawing  the  soldiers  from  their  ambush, 
and  giving  him  an  opportunity  to  reach  home  and  learn 
the  danger  he  had  escaped. 

These  considerations  passed  rapidly  through  his  mind. 
He  slouched  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  and  marched  with  sul- 
len, stubborn  mien.  In  this  manner  he  was  taken  to  the 
village,  and  conducted  to  an  old  storehouse,  which  had 
lately  been  turned  into  a  guard-house  by  the  confederate 
authorities. 

There  was  a  great  crowd  around  the  dimly-lighted  door, 
and  other  prisoners,  similarly  escorted,  were  going  in. 
Arnid  the  press  and  huiry,  Penn  passed  the  sentinels  still 
unrecognized.  He  immediately  found  himself  wedged  in 
between  the  wall  and  a  number  of  Tennessee  Union  men, 
some  terrified  into  silence,  others  em-aged  and  defiant,  but 
all  captives  like  himself. 

In  the  farther  end  of  the  room,  at  a  desk  behind  the 
counter,  with  candles  at  each  side,  sat  the  confederate 
colonel  to  whom  Penn  owed  his  life.  He  seemed  to  be 
receiving  the  reports  of  those  who  had  conducted  the 


STACKRIDGE'S    COAT  AND    HAT.  187 

arrests,  and  to  be  examining  the  prisoners.  Beside  him 
sat  his  aids  and  clerks.  Before  him  Penn  knew  that  he 
must  soon  appear.  He  was  in  darkness  and  disguise  as 
yet,  but  he  could  not  long  avoid  facing  the  light  and  the 
eyes  of  those  who  knew  him  well.  What,  then,  would 
be  his  fate  ?  Would  he  be  retained  a  prisoner,  like  the 
rest,  or  delivered  over  to  the  mob  that  sought  his  life  ? 
He  had  time  to  decide  upon  a  course  which  he  hoped 
might  gain  him  some  favor. 

Taking  advantage  of  the  shadow  and  confusion  In 
which  he  was,  he  slipped  off  his  disguise,  and,  elbowing 
his  way  through  the  crowd  of  prisoners,  appeared,  hat  in 
hand  and  coat  on  arm,  before  the  interior  guard,  and  de- 
manded to  speak  with  the  commanding  officer. 

"  Sir,  who  are  you  r "  said  the  colonel,  failing,  at  first, 
to  recognize  him.  Upon  which  Mr.  Ropes,  who  was  at 
his  side,  swore  a  great  oath  that  it  was  the  schoolmaster 
himself. 

"  But  I  have  had  no  report  of  his  arrest,"  cried  the 
colonel.  "  How  came  you  here,  sir  ?  " 

"I  wish  to  place  myself  under  your  protection,"  said 
Penn.  "  You  received  a  substitute  in  my  place,  and 
ordered  me  to  be  set  at  liberty.  But  your  commands 
have  been  disregarded ;  I  have  been  hunted  for  two  days ; 
and  men,  calling  themselves  confederate  soldiers,  are  still 
pursuing  me.  Under  these  circumstances  I  have  thought 
it  best  to  appeal  to  you,  relying  upon  your  honor  as  a 
gentleman  and  an  officer." 


188  STACKRIDQE'S    COAT  AND   HAT. 

"  But  how  came  you  here  ?  Who  brought  in  this 
fellow  ?  " 

Nobody  could  answer  that  question,  although  the  leader 
of  the  party  that  had  brought  him  in  was  at  the  very 
moment  on  the  spot,  waiting  to  make  his  report  of  Stack- 
ridge's  arrest. 

As  soon,  therefore,  as  Penn  could  gain  a  hearing,  he 
continued. 

"  I  came  in,  sir,  with  a  crowd  of  soldiers  and  pris- 
oners, none  of  whom  recognized  me.  The  sentinels  no 
doubt  supposed  I  was  arrested,  and  so  let  me  pass." 

"  Well,  sir,  you  have  done  a  bold  thing,  and  perhaps 
the  best  thing  for  you.  Since  you  have  voluntarily  deliv- 
ered yourself  up,  I  shall  feel  bound  to  protect  you.  But 
I  have  only  one  of  two  alternatives  to  offer  you  —  the 
same  I  offer  to  each  of  these  worthy  gentlemen  here, 
giving  them  their  choice.  Take  the  oath  of  allegiance 
to  the  confederate  government,  and  volunteer;  that  is 
one  condition." 

"  I  am  a  northern  man,"  replied  Penn,  "  and  owe  alle- 
giance to  the  United  States ;  so  that  condition  it  is  im- 
possible for  me  to  accept." 

"  Very  well ;  I'll  give  you  time  to  think  of  it.  In  the 
mean  while,  my  only  means  of  affording  the  protection 
you  demand  will  be  to  retain  you  a  prisoner.  Guard,  take 
this  man  below." 

Not  another  word  was  said ;  and,  indeed,  Penn  had 
already  gained  more  than  he  hoped  for,  with  the  eyes  of 


COAT  AND    HAT.  189 

Lieutenant  Ropes  glaring  on  him  so  murderously.  He 
was  conducted  to  a  stairway  that  led  to  the  cellar,  and 
ordered  to  descend.  He  obeyed,  marching  down  between 
two  soldiers  on  guard  at  the  door,  and  two  more  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs. 

It  was  a  lugubrious  subterranean  apartment,  lighted  by 
a  single  lantern  suspended  from  a  beam.  By  its  dim  rays 
he  discovered  the  figures  of  half  a  dozen  fellow-prisoners ; 
and,  in  the  midst  of  the  group,  he  recognized  one,  the 
sight  of  whom  caused  him  to  forget  all  his  own  misfor- 
tunes in  an  instant. 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Villars  !  I  have  found  you  at  last !  "  he 
exclaimed,  grasping  the  old  clergyman's  hand. 

"  Penn,  is  it  you  ?  "  said  the  blind  old  man. 

He  was  seated  on  a  dry  goods  box.  Trembling  and 
feeble,  he  arose  to  greet  his  young  friend,  with  a  noble 
courtesy  very  beautiful  and  touching  under  the  circum- 
stances. 

"  I  cannot  tell  thee,"  said  Penn,  in  a  choked  voice, 
"  how  grieved  I  am  to  see  thee  here  !  " 

"  And  grieved  am  I  that  you  should  see  me  here ! "  Mr. 
Villars  replied.  "  I  hoped  you  were  a  hundred  miles 
away.  I  was  never  sorry  to  have  your  company  till  now ! 
How  does  it  happen  ?  " 

Penn  made  him  sit  down  again,  giving  him  Stackridge's 
coat  for  a  cushion,  and  related  briefly  his  adventures. 

"  It  is  very  singular,"  said  the  old  man,  thoughtfully 
"  It  seems  almost  providential  that  you  arc  here." 


190  STACKXIDQE'S    COAT  AND    HAT. 

"  I  think  it  is  so,"  said  Penn.  "  I  think  I  am  here 
because  I  may  be  of  service  to  you." 

"  Ah !  "  replied  the  old  man,  with  a  tender  smile,  "  my 
life  is  of  but  little  value  compared  with  yours.  I  am  a 
worn-ou,t  servant ;  my  day  of  usefulness  is  past ;  I  am 
ready  to  go  home.  I  do  not  speak  repiningly,"  he  added. 
"  If  I  can  serve  my  country  or  my  God  by  suffering — • 
if  nothing  remains  for  me  but  that  —  then  I  will  cheer- 
fully suffer.  Our  heavenly  Father  orders  all  things  ;  and 
I  am  content.  All  will  be  well  with  us,  if  we  are  obe- 
dient children  ;  all  will  yet  be  well  with  our  poor  country, 
if  it  is  true  to  itself  and  to  Him." 

"  O,  do  not  say  thy  day  of  usefulness  is  past,  as  long 
as  thou  canst  speak  such  words  !  "  said  Penn,  deeply 
moved. 

"  Thank  God,  I  have  faith !  Even  in  this  darkest  hour 
of  my  life  and  of  my  country,  I  think  I  have  more  faith 
than  ever.  And  I  have  love,  too  —  love  even  for  those 
violent  men  who  have  thrown  us  into  this  dungeon. 
They  know  not  what  they  do.  They  act  in  ignorance 
and  passion.  They  seek  to  destroy  our  dear  old  govern- 
ment ;  but  they  will  only  destroy  what  they  are  striving 
so  madly  to  build  up." 

"  Yes,"  said  one  of  the  prisoners,  "  the  institution  will 
be  ruined  by  those  very  men  !  They  are  worse  than  the 
abolitionists  themselves  ;  and  I  hate  'em  worse  !  " 

"  Hate  their  errors,  Captain  Grudd,  hate  their  crimes, 
but  hate  no  man,"  Mr.  Villars  softly  replied. 


STACKRIDGE'S    COAT  AXD    HAT.  191 

"  And  you  would  have  us  submit  to  them  ?  " 

"  Submit,  when  you  can  do  no  better.  But  even  for 
their  sakes,  even  for  the  love  of  them,  my  friend,  resist 
their  crimes  when  you  can.  No  man  will  stand  by  and 
see  a  maniac  murder  his  wife  and  children.  It  will  be 
better  for  the  poor  maddened  wretch  himself  to  prevent 
him  ;  don't  you  think  so,  Penn  ? " 

"  I  do,"  said  Penn,  who  knew  that  the  argument  was 
meant  for  himself,  not  for  the  rest.  "  I  am  thoroughly 
convinced.  You  were  always  right  on  that  subject ;  and 
I  was  always  wrong." 

"  I  perceive,"  said  the  old  man,  "  that  you  have  had 
experience.  It  is  not  I  that  have  convinced  you  ;  it  is 
the  logic  of  events." 

One  by  one,  the  prisoners  from  above  followed  Penn 
down  the  dismal  stairs.  Only  now  and  then  a  faint- 
hearted Unionist  consented  to  regain  his  liberty  by  tak;ng 
the  oath  of  allegiance,  and  "  volunteering."  At  length 
the  room  above  was  cleared,  and  no  more  prisoners  ar- 
rived. Penn,  who  had  kept  anxious  watch  for  his  friend 
Stackridge,  ~»vas  congratulating  himself  upon  the  perfect 
success  of  his  stratagem,  when  the  corporal  who  ha4 
brought  him  in  came  rushing  down  the  stairs,  accompa 
nied  by  Lieutenant  Ropes. 

"  Stackridge  !  "  he  called,  searching  among  the  pris- 
oners ;  "  is  Medad  Stackridge  here  ?  " 

No  man  had  seen  him. 

-'  Then  I  tell  you,"  said  the  corporal  to  Silas,  "  he  ia 


192  STACKRIDGE'S    COAT  AND   HAT. 

hid  somewhere  up  stairs,  or  else  he  has  escaped ;  for  I 
can  swear  I  arrested  him." 

"  I  can  swear  you  was  drunk,"  said  Silas,  much  dis- 
gusted. "  You  have  let  the  wust  man  of  the  lot  slip 
through  your  fingers  ;  for  it's  certain  he  ain't  here." 

Penn  trembled  for  a  minute.  But  both  Hopes  and  the 
corporal  passed  him  without  a  suspicion  of  what  was 
agitating  him ;  and  he  felt  immensely  relieved  when  they 
returned  up  the  stairs,  and  the  mystery  remained  unex- 
plained. 

The  prisoners  in  the  cellar  were  about  twelve  in  num- 
ber. Nearly  all  were  sturdy,  earnest  men.  Penn  no- 
ticed that  they  were  not  cast  down  by  their  misfortunes, 
but  that  they  whispered  among  themselves,  exchanging 
glances  of  intelligence  and  defiance.  At  length  Cap- 
tain Grudd  came  to  him,  and  taking  him  aside,  said,  — 

"Well,  professor,  what  do  you  think  of  the  situation?" 

"  We  seem  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  villains,"  replied 
Penn. 

"  Not  so  much  at  their  mercy  either,  if  we  choose  to 
be  men !  What  we  want  to  know  is,  will  you  join  us  ? 
And  if  there  should  be  a  little  fighting  to  do,  will  yov. 
help  do  it?" 

Penn  grasped  his  hand.  "  Show  me  that  we  have  an) 
chance  of  escape,  and  I  am  with  you  !  " 

"I  thought  you  would  come  to  it  at  last!"  Grudd 
smiled  grimly.  "  What  we  want,  to  begin  with,  is  a  few 
handy  weapons.  But  we  have  all  been  disarmed. 


STACKKIDGE'S    COAT  AND   HAT.  193 

you  anything  ?  I  noticed  they  did  not  search  you, 
probably  because  you  came  voluntarily  and  gave  your- 
self up." 

"  I  have  Stackridge's  pistol.  It  is  in  the  coat  Mr.  Vil- 
lars  is  sitting  on." 

Grudd's  eyes  lighted  up  at  this  unexpected  good  news. 
"  It  will  come  in  play  !  We  must  shoot  or  strangle  these 
fellows,  and  have  their  guns,"  —  with  a  glance  at  the  sol- 
diers on  guard. 

"  But  the  room  up  stairs  is  full  of  soldiers,  and  there  is 
a  strong  guard  posted  outside,  probably  surrounding  the 
building.'' 

"  We  will  have  as  little  to  do  with  them  as  possible. 
Yoiing  man,  I  have  a  secret  for  you.  Do  you  know  whose 
property  this  is  ?  " 

"  Barber  Jim's,  I  believe." 

"  And  do  you  know  there's  a  secret  passage  from  this 
cellar  into  the  cellar  under  Jim's  shop  ?  It  was  dug  by 
Jim  himself,  as  a  hiding-place  for  his  wife  and  children. 
He  had  bought  them,  but  the  heirs  of  their  former  owner 
had  set  up  a  claim  to  them.  After  that  matter  was  set- 
tled, he  showed  Stackridge  the  place ;  and  that's  the 
way  we  came  to  make  use  of  it.  We  stored  our  guns  in 
the  passage,  and  came  through  into  this  cellar  at  night  to 
consult  and  drill.  The  store  being  shut,  and  the  windows 
all  fastened  and  boarded  up,  made  a  quiet  place  of  it.  As 
good  luck  would  have  it,  the  night  before  the  military 
took  possession,  Jim  warned  us,  and  we  carefully  put 
17 


194  STACKRIDGE'S    COAT  AXD   HAT. 

back  every  stone  in  the  wall,  and  left.  But  some  of  oui 
guns  are  still  in  the  passage,  if  they  have  not  been  dis- 
covered. We  have  only  to  open  the  wall  again  to  get  at 
them.  But  before  that  can  be  done,  the  guard  must  be 
disposed  of." 

Penn,  who  had  listened  with  intense  interest  to  this 
recital,  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Is  the  passage  behind  the  spot  where  Mr.  Villars  is 
sitting  ?  " 

"  Within  three  feet  of  the  box." 

"  Then  I  fear  it  is  discovered.  I  heard  a  noise  behind 
that  wall  not  ten  minutes  ago." 

Grudd  started.     "  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure." 

"  It  must  be  Jim  himself ;  or  else  we  have  been 
betrayed." 

"  Was  the  secret  known  to  many  ? " 

"  To  all  our  club,  and  one  besides,"  said  Grudd,  frown- 
ing anxiously.  "  Stackridge  made  a  mistake  :  I  told  him 
so  !  " 

"  How  ?  " 

"  We  were  drilling  here  that  night  when  Dutch  Carl 
came  to  tell  us  you  were  in  danger.  Stackridge  said  he 
knew  the  boy,  and  would  trust  him.  So  he  brought  him 
in  here.  And  Carl  is  now  a  rebel  volunteer." 

"  With  him  your  secret  is  safe  !  "  Penn  hastened  to 
assure  the  captain.  "  Stackridge  was  right.  Carl " 

Pie  paused  suddenly,  looking  at  the  stairs.     Even  •while 


STACKRIDGE'S    COAT  AND    HAT.  195 

the  boy's  name  was  on  his  lips,  the  boy  himself  was 
entering  the  cellar.  He  carried  a  musket.  He  wore  the 
confederate  uniform.  He  was  accompanied  by  Gad  and 
an  officer.  They  had  come  to  relieve  the  guard.  The 
men  who  had  previously  been  on  duty  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs  retired  with  the  officer,  and  Gad  and  Carl  remained 
in  their  place. 

Penn  at  the  sight  was  filled  with  painful  solicitude. 
To  have  seen  his  young  friend  and  pupil  shoulder  a  con- 
federate musket,  knowing  that  it  was  the  love  of  him 
that  made  him  a  rebel,  would  alone  have  been  grief 
enough.  How  much  worse,  then,  to  see  him  placed  here 
in  a  position  where  it  might  be  necessary,  in  Grudd's 
opinion,  to  "  shoot  or  strangle  "  him  !  But  having  once 
exchanged  glances  with  the  boy,  Fenn's  mind  was  set  at 
rest. 

"  He  has  kept  your  secret,''  he  said  to  Grudd.  "  He 
is  very  shrewd  ;  and  if  AVC  need  help,  he  will  help  us." 

But  the  noise  Penn  had  heard  behind  the  wall  was 
troubling  the  captain.  They  retired  to  that  part  of  the 
cellar.  They  had  been  there  but  a  short  time  when  a 
very  distinct  knock  was  heard  on  the  stones.  It  sounded 
like  a  signal.  Grudd  responded,  striking  the  wall  with 
his  heel  as  he  leaned  his  back  against  it.  Then  followed 
a  low  whistle  in  the  passage.  The  captain's  dark  features 
lighted  up. 

"  We  are  safe  !  "  he  whispered  in  Penn's  ear.  "  It  is 
Stackridge  himself !  " 


198  THE  FLIGHT  OF    THE  PRISONEl-.S. 


XXIII. 


THE  FLIGHT  OF  THE  PRISONERS. 


HEN  commenced  strategy.  The  pric^ners 
gathered  in  a  group  before  the  closed  pas- 
sage, and  talked  loud,  while  Grudd  estab- 
lished a  communication  with  Stackridge.  In  the  course 
of  an  hour  a  single  stone  in  the  wall  had  been  removed. 
Through  the  aperture  thus  formed  a  bottle  was  intro- 
duced. This  Grudd  pretended  afterwards  to  take  from 
his  pocket ;  and  having  (apparently)  drank,  lie  offered 
it  to  his  friends.  All  drank,  or  appeared  to  drink,  in 
a  manner  that  provoked  Gad's  thirst.  He  vowed  that 
it  was  too  bad  that  anything  good  should  moisten  the 
lips  of  tory  prisoners  while  a  soldier  like  him  went 
thirsty. 

"  I  never  saw  the  time,  Gad,"  said  the  captain, 
"  when  I  wouldn't  share  a  bottle  with  you,  and  I  will 
now." 

Gad  held  his  gun  with  one  hand  and  grasped  the 
bottle  with  the  other.  Penn  seized  the  moment  when 


THE   FLIGHT    OF    THE    PRISONERS.  197 

his  eyes  were  directed  upwards  at  the  cobweb  festoons 
that  adorned  the  cellar,  and  the  sound  of  gurgling  was 
in  his  throat,  to  whisper  in  Carl's  ear,  — 

"  Appear  to  drink,  and  by  and  by  pass  the  bottle 
up  stairs." 

Carl  understood  the  game  in  an  instant. 

"  Here,  you  fish  !  "  he  said,  in  the  midst  of  Gad's 
potation.  "  Leafe  a  little  trop  for  me,  vill  you  ? " 

It  was  some  time  before  the  torrent  in  Gad's  throat 
ceased  its  murmuring,  and  he  removed  his  eyes  from  the 
cobwebs.  Then,  smacking  his  lips,  and  remarking  that 
it  was  the  right  sort  of  stuff,  he  passed  the  bottle  to 
Carl. 

"  Y/ho's  the  fish  this  time  ?"  said  he,  enviously,  after 
Carl  had  made  believe  swallow  for  a  few  seconds. 

He  snatched  the  bottle,  and  was  drinking  as  before, 
when  the  guard  above,  hearing  what  passed,  called  for  a 
taste. 

"  You  shust  vait  a  minute  till  Gad  trinks  it  all  up, 
then  you  shall  pe  velcome  to  vot  ish  left,"  said  Carl. 
And,  possessing  himself  of  the  bottle,  he  handed  it  up 
to  his  comrades. 

All  the  soldiers  above  were  asleep  except  the  sen- 
tinels. They  drank  freely,  and  returned  the  bottle  to 
Gad.  He  had  not  finished  it  before  he  began  to  be 
overcome  by  drowsiness,  its  contents  having  been  drugged 
for  the  occasion. 

He  sat  down  on  the  stairs,  and  soon  slid  off  upon  the 
17* 


198  THE   FLIGHT    OF    THE   PRISONERS. 

ground.  Carl,  who  had  not  in  reality  swallowed  a  drop, 
followed  his  example.  Their  guns  were  then  taken 
from  them.  Penn  stole  softly  up  the  stairs,  and  recon- 
noitred while  Grudd  and  his  companions  opened  the 
passage  in  the  wall. 

"  All  asleep  !  '  Penn  whispered,  descending.     "  Carl .'  " 

Carl  opened  one  eye,  with  a  droll  expression. 

"  Are  you  asleep  : " 

"  Wery  !  "  said  Carl. 

"  Will  you  stay  here,  or  go  with  us  ?  " 

"  You  vill  take  me  prisoner  r  " 

"  If  you  wish  it." 

"  Say  you  vill  plow  my  brains  out  if  I  say  vun  vord, 
or  make  vun  noise. " 

"  Come,  come  !  there's  no  time  for  fooling,  Carl !  " 

"  It  ish  no  vooling  ! ''  And  Carl  insisted  on  Penn's 
making  the  threat.  "  Veil,  then,  I  vill  vake  up  and  go 
'long  mit  you." 

Mr.  Villars  had  been  for  some  time  sleeping  soundly  ; 
for  it  was  now  long  past  midnight,  and  weariness  had 
overcome  him.  Penn  awoke  him ;  but  the  old  man  re- 
fused to  escape.  "  Go  without  me.  I  shall  be  too  great 
a  burden  for  you."  But  not  one  of  his  fellow-prisoners 
would  consent  to  leave  him  behind  ;  and,  listening  to  their 
expostulations,  he  at  length  arose  to  accompany  them. 

Stackridge  was  in  the  passage,  with  the  old  man  Eller- 
ton,  whom  Penn  had  sent  to  warn  him.  They  had  brought 
a  supply  of  ammunition  for  the  guns,  which  they  had 


THE   FLIGHT    OF    THE    PRISONERS.  199 

loaded  and  placed  ready  for  use.  Penn,  supporting  and 
guiding  the  old  minister,  was  the  first  to  pass  through  into 
the  cellar  under  Jim's  shop.  Stackridge,  preceding  them 
with  a  lantern,  greeted  their  escape  with  silent  and  grim 
exultation.  Carl  came  next.  Then,  one  by  one,  the  otherr 
followed,  each  grasping  his  gun ;  the  rays  of  the  lantern 
lighting  up  their  determined  faces,  as  they  emerged  from 
the  low  passage,  and  stood  erect,  an  eager,  whispering 
group,  around  Stackridge. 

Brief  the  consultation.  Their  plans  were  soon  formed. 
Leaving  Gad  asleep  in  the  cellar  behind  them ;  the 
guard  asleep,  the  soldiers  all  asleep,  in  the  room  above  ; 
the  sontinels  outside  the  old  storehouse  keeping  watch, 
pacing  to  and  fro  around  the  cellar,  in  which  not  a 
prisoner  remained,  —  Stackridge  and  his  companions 
filed  out  noiselessly  through  Jim's  closed  and  silent 
shop,  upon  the  other  street,  and  took  their  way  swiftly 
through  the  town. 

Having  appointed  a  place  of  meeting  with  his  friends, 
Penn  left  them,  and  hastened  alone  to  Mr.  Villars's  house. 
The  lights  had  long  been  out.  But  the  sisters  were 
awake ;  Virginia  had  not  even  gone  to  bed.  She  was 
sitting  by  her  window,  gazing  out  on  the  hushed,  gloomy, 
breathless  summer  night,  —  waiting,  waiting,  she  scarce 
knew  for  what,  —  when  she  was  aware  of  a  figure  ap- 
proaching, and  knew  Penn's  light,  quick  tap  at  the  door. 

She  ran  down  to  admit  him.  His  story  was  quick- 
ly told,  Toby  was  roused  up ;  blankets  were  rolled 


200  THE   FLIGHT   OF   THE   PRISONERS. 

together,  and  all  the  available  provisions  that  could  bs 
carried  were  thrust  into  baskets. 

"  How  shall  we  get  news  to  you  ?  You  will  want 
to  hear  from  your  father."  Penn  hastily  thought  of  a 
plan.  "Send  Toby  to  the  round  rock,  —  he  knows 
where  it  is,  —  on  the  side  of  the  mountain.  Be- 
tween nine  and  ten  o'clock  to-morrow  night.  I  will 
try  to  communicate  with  him  there."  And  Penn,  bid- 
ding the  young  girl  be  of  good  cheer,  departed  as  sud- 
denly as  he  had  arrived. 

The  old  negro  accompanied  him*  assisting  to  carry 
the  burdens.  They  found  Stackridge's  horse  where  he 
had  been  fastened.  Penn  made  Toby  mount,  take 
a  basket  in  each  hand,  and  hold  the  blankets  before 
him  on  the  neck  of  the  horse ;  then,  seizing  the  bridle, 
and  running  by  his  side,  he  trotted  the  beast  away 
across  the  field  in  a  manner  that  shook  the  old  negro 
up  in  lively  style. 

"  O,  Massa  Penn  !  I  can't  stan'  dis  yere  !  1's  gwine 
all  to  pieces !  I  shall  drap  some  o'  dese  yer  tings, 
shore !  " 

"  You  must  stand  it !  hold  on  to  them  !  "  said  Penn. 
"  And  now  keep  still,  for  we  are  near  the  road." 

The  party  had  halted  at  the  rendezvous.  Mr.  Villars, 
quite  exhausted  by  his  unusual  exertions,  was  seated 
on  the  ground  when  Penn  came  up  with  Toby  and  the 
horse.  Toby  dismounted  ;  the  old  minister  mounted  in 
his  place,  and  the  negro  was  sent  back. 


THE   FLIGHT   OF    THE    PEISONERS.  201 

All  this  passed  swiftly  and  silently ;  the  fugitives 
were  once  more  on  the  march,  Penn  walking  by  the 
old  man's  side.  Scarce  a  word  was  spoken ;  the  tramp 
of  feet  and  the  sound  of  the  horse's  hoofs  alone  broke 
the  silence  of  the  night.  Suddenly  a  voice  hailed 
them :  — 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  " 

And  they  discovered  some  horsemen  drawn  up  be- 
fore them  beside  the  road.  It  was  the  night-patrol. 

"  Friends,"  answered  Stackridge,  marching  straight  on. 

"  Halt,  and  give  an  account  of  yourselves  !  "  shouted 
the  patrol. 

"  We  are  peaceable  citizens,  if  let  alone,''  said  Stack- 
ridge.  "You'd  better  not  meddle  with  us." 

The  horsemen  waited  for  them  to  pass,  then,  firing 
their  pistols  at  the  fugitives,  put  spurs  to  their  horses, 
and  galloped  away  towards  the  village. 

"  Don't  fire  !  "  cried  Stackridge,  as  half  a  dozen  pieces 
were  levelled  in  the  darkness.  "  We've  no  ammunition 
to  throw  away,  and  no  time  to  lose.  They'll  give  the 
alarm.  Take  straight  to  the  mountains  !  " 

Nobody  had  been  hit.  Turning  aside  from  the  road, 
they  took  their  way  across  the  broad  pasture  lands  that 
sloped  upwards  to  the  rocky  hills.  The  dark  valley 
spread  beneath  them;  on  the  other  side  rose  the  dim 
outlines  of  the  shadowy  mountain  range  ;  over  all  spread 
a  still,  cloudless  sky,  thick-strewn  with  glittering  star 
dust 


202  THE   FLIGHT    OF    THE   PRISONERS. 

In  the  village,  the  ringing  of  bells  startled  the  night 
with  a  wild  clamor.  Stackridge  laughed. 

"  They  '11  make  noise  enough  now  to  wake  Gad  him- 
self!  But  noise  won't  hurt  anybody.  Hear  the  drums  !  " 

"  They  are  coming  this  way,"  said  Penn. 

"  Fools,  to  set  out  in  pursuit  of  us  with  drums  beat- 
ing ! "  said  Captain  Grudd.  "  Very  kind  in  them  to 
give  us  notice  !  They  should  bring  lighted  torches,  too." 

"  Once  in  the  mountains,"  said  Stackridge,  "  we  are 
safe.  There  we  can  defend  ourselves  against  a  hundred. 
Other  Union  men  will  join  us,  or  bring  us  supplies.  We 
ought  to  have  made  this  move  before  ;  and  I'm  glad  we've 
been  forced  to  it  at  last.  If  every  Union  man  in  the 
south  had  made  a  bold  stand  in  the  beginning,  this 
cursed  rebellion  never  would  have  got  such  a  start." 

Suddenly  bells  and  drums  were  silent.  "  The  less 
noise  the  more  danger,"  said  Stackridge.  The  way  was 
growing  difficult  for  the  horse's  feet.  The  cow-paths, 
which  it  had  been  easy  to  follow  at  first,  disappeared 
among  the  thickets.  At  length,  on  the  crest  of  a  hill, 
the  party  halted  to  rest. 

"  Daylight ! "  said  Stackridge,  turning  his  face  to  the 
east. 

The  sky  was  brightening ;  the  shadows  in  the  valley 
melted  slowly  away ;  far  off  the  cocks  crew. 

"  Hark ! "  said  the  captain.  "  Do  you  hear  any- 
thing ? " 

"  I  heard  a  woice  !  "    said  Carl. 


THE   FLIGHT   OF   THE  PRISONERS.  203 

•'Hist!''  said  Perm.  "Look  yonder!  there  they 
come !  around  those  bushes  at  the  foot  of  the  oak !  " 

"  Sure  as  fate,  there  they  are  !  "  said  the   captain. 

The  fugitives  crowded  to  his  side,  eager,  grasping 
their  gunstocks,  and  peering  with  intent  eyes  through 
the  darkness  in  the  direction  in  which  he  pointed. 

"  Take  the  horse,"  said  Stackridge  to  Penn,  "  and 
[cud  him  up  through  that  gap  out  of  the  reach  of  the 
bullets.  We'll  slay  and  give  these  rascals  a  lesson. 
Go  along  with  him,  Carl,  if  you  don't  want  to  fight  your 
friends.  ' 

There  were  not  guns  enough  for  all ;  and  Grudd  had 
Stackridge' s  revolver.  There  was  nothing  better,  then, 
for  Penn  and  Carl  to  do  than  to  consent  to  this  arrange- 
ment. 

Penn  went  before,  leading  the  horse  up  the  dry  bed 
of  a  brook.  Carl  followed,  urging  the  animal  from  be- 
hind. Mr.  Villars  rode  with  the  baggage,  which  had 
been  lashed  to  the  saddle.  Only  the  clashing  of  the  iron 
hoofs  on  the  stones  broke  the  stillness  of  the  morning  in 
that  mountain  solitude.  Stackridge  and  his  compatriots 
had  suddenly  become  invisible,  crouching  among  bushes 
and  behind  rocks. 

The  retreat  of  Penn  and  his  companions  was  discov- 
ered by  the  pursuing  party,  who  mistook  it  for  a  general 
Jight  of  the  fugitives.  They  rushed  forward  with  a 
.shout  They  had  a  rugged  and  barren  hill  to  ascend. 
Half  way  up  the  slope  they  saw  flashes  of  fire  burst  from 


204  THE  FLIGHT   OF    THE   PRISONERS. 

the  rocks  above,  heard  the  rapid  "  crack  —  crackle  — 
crack  !  *'  of  a  dozen  pieces,  and  retreated  in  confusion 
down  the  hill  again. 

Stackridge  and  his  companions  coolly  proceeded  to 
reload  their  guns. 

"  They  didn't  know  we  had  arras,"  said  the  farmer, 
with  a  grim  smile.  "They'll  be  more  cautious  now." 

"  We've  done  for  two  or  three  of  'em  !  "  said  Captain 
Grudd.  "  There  they  lie  ;  one  is  crawling  off/' 

"Let  him  crawl!7'  said  Stackridge.  "Sorry  to  kill 
any  of  'em ;  but  it's  about  time  for  'em  to  know  we're 
in  'arnest." 

"  They  've  gone  to  cover  in  the  laurels,"  said  Grudd. 
"  Let's  shift  our  ground,  and  watch  their  movements." 

Pcnn  and  Carl  in  the  mean  time  made  haste  to  get  the 
horse  and  his  burden  beyond  the  reach  of  bullets.  Thry 
toiled  up  the  bed  of  the  brook  until  it  was  no  longer 
passable.  Huge  bowlders  lay  jammed  and  crowded  in 
clefts  of  the  mountain  before  them.  Penn  remembered 
the  spot.  He  had  been  there  in  spring,  when  down  over 
the  rocks,  now  covered  with  lichens  and  dry  scum,  poured 
an  impetuous  torrent. 

"  Now  I  know  where  I  am,"  he  said.  "  I  don't  be- 
lieve it  is  possible  to  get  the  horse  any  farther.  We  will 
wait  here  for  our  friends.  Mr.  Yillars,  if  you  will  dis- 
mount, we  will  try  to  get  you  up  on  the  bank." 

"  I  pity  you,  my  children,"  said  the  old  man.  "  You 
should  never  hare  encumbered  yourselves  with  such  a 


THE   FLIGHT   OF    THE   PRISONERS.  20ft 

burden  as  I  am.  I  can  neither  fight  nor  run.  Is  it  sun- 
rise yet  ? " 

"  It  is  sunrise,  and  a  beautiful  morning  !  -The  fresh 
rays  come  to  us  here,  sifted  through  the  dewy  trees. 
Sit  down  on  this  rock.  Find  the  luncheon,  Carl.  Ah, 
Carl !  "  —  Penn  regarded  the  boy  affectionately,  —  "I 
am  glad  to  have  you  with  me  again,  b'.it  I  can't  forget 
that  you  are  a  rebel !  and  a  deserter !  " 

"la  deserter  ?  you  mishtake,"  said  Carl.  "  I  am  a 
prisoner." 

"  You  disobeyed  me,  Carl !  I  told  you  not  to  enlist. 
You  did  wrong." 

"  Now  shust  listen,"  said  Carl,  "  and  I  vill  tell  you. 
I  did  right.  Cause  vy.  You  are  alive  and  veil  now, 
ain't  you  ?  " 

Penn  smilingly  admitted  the  fact. 

"  And  that  is  petter  as  being  hung  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  so  very  certain  of  that,  Carl !  " 

"  Veil,  I  am  certain  for  you.  Hanging  ish  no  goot. 
Hunderts  of  vellers  that  don't  like  the  rebels  no  more 
as  you  do,  wolunteer  rather  than  to  be  hung.  Shows 
their  goot  sense." 

"  But  you  have  taken  an  oath  —  you  are  under  a 
solemn  engagement,  Carl,  to  fight  against  the  govern- 
ment." 

"  You  mishtake  unce  more  —  two  times.  I  make  a 
pargain.  I  say  to  that  man,  '  You  let  Mishter  Hap- 
goot  go  free,  and  not  let  him  be  hurt,  and  I  vill  be  8 
18 


5>06  THE  FLIGHT    OF  TB£    PR1SOX£H*. 

rebel.'  Veil,  he  agrees.  But  he  don't  keep  his  vord. 
He  lets  'em  go  for  to  hang  you  vunce  more.  Now,  if  he 
preaks  his  part  of  the  pargain,  vy  shouldn't  I  preak 
mine  ?  " 

"  Well,  Carl,''  said  Penn,  laughing,  while  his  eyes 
glistened,  "  I  trust  thy  conscience  is  clear  in  the  mat- 
ter. I  can  only  say  that,  though  I  don't  approve  of 
thy  being  a  rebel,  I  love  thee  all  the  better  for  it. 
What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Villars  ? " 

"  Sometimes  people  do  wrong  from  a  motive  so  pure 
and  disinterested  that  it  sanctifies  the  action.  This  is 
Carl's  case,  I  think." 

"  Hello  ! "  cried  Carl,  jumping  up  from  the  bank  on 
which  they  were  seated.  "  Guns  !  They  are  at  it  again  ! 
I  vill  go  see  !  " 

The  boy  disappeared,  scrambling  down  the  dry  bed  of 
the  torrent. 

The  firing  continued  at  irregular  intervals  for  half  an 
hour.  Carl  did  not  return.  Penn  grew  anxious.  He 
stood,  intently  listening,  when  he  heard  a  noise  behind 
him,  and,  turning  quickly,  saw  the  glimmer  of  musket- 
barrels  over  the  rocks. 

"  Fire  !  "    said  a  voice. 

And  Penn  threw  himself  down  under  the  bank  just  in 
time  to  avoid  the  discharge  of  half  a  dozen  pieces  aimed 
at  his  head. 

"  What  is  the  trouble  ?  "  asked  the  old  man.  who  was 
lying  on  some  blankets  spread  for  him  there  in  the  shade. 


TBE    FLIGHT    OF   T3E   PR1 SONER  S.  20? 

Before  Penu  could  reply,  Silas  Ropes  and  six  men 
came  rushing  down  upon  them.  Stackridge  had  been 
out-gencralled.  Whilst  he  and  his  men  were  being  di- 
verted by  a  feigned  attack  in  front,  two  different  parties 
had  been  despatched  by  circuitous  routes  to  get  in  his 
rear.  In  executing  the  part  of  the  plan  intrusted  to 
him,  Ropes  had  unexpectedly  come  upon  the  school- 
master and  his  companion.  A  minute  later  both  were 
seized  and  dragged  up  from  the  bed  of  the  torrent. 

"  Ye  don't  escape  me  this  time !  ''  said  Silas,  with 
brutal  exultation.  "Tie  him  up  to  the  tree  thar ;  serve 
the  old  one  the  same.  We  can't  be  bothered  with 
prisoners." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  to  that  helpless,  blind 
old  man  ?  "  cried  Penn.  "  Do  what  you  please  with 
me  ;  I  expect  no  mercy,  —  I  ask  none.  But  I  entreat 
you,  respect  his  gray  hair  ! " 

The  appeal  seemed  to  have  some  effect  even  oh  the 
savage-hearted  Silas.  He  glanced  at  his  men :  they 
were  evidently  of  the  opinion  that  the  slaughter  of  the 
old  clergyman  was  uncalled  for. 

"  Wai,  tie  the  old  ranter,  and  leave  him.  Quick 
/vork,  boys.  Got  the  schoolmaster  fast  ?  " 

"  All  right,''  said  the  men. 

"  Wai,  How  stand  back  here,  and  les'  have  a  little 
bayonet  practice." 

Penn  knew  very  well  what  that  meant.  His  clothes 
were  stripped  from  him,  in  order  to  present  a  fair 


208  THE   FLIGHT    OF   THE   PRISONERS. 

mark  for  the  murderous  steel ;  and  he  was  bound  to  a 
tree. 

"  One  at  a  time,"  said  Silas.  "  Try  your  hand,  Griffin. 
Charge  —  bayonet  !  " 

In  vain  the  old  minister  endeavored  to  make  him- 
self heard  in  his  friend's  behalf.  He  could  only  pray 
for  him. 

Penn  saw  the  ferocious  soldier  springing  towards  him, 
the  deadly  bayonet  thrust  straight  at  his  heart.  In  an 
instant  the  murder  would  have  been  done.  But  when 
within  two  paces  of  his  victim,  the  steel  almost  touching 
his  breast,  Griffin  uttered  a  yell,  dropped  his  gun,  flung 
up  his  hands,  and  fell  dead  at  Penn's  feet. 

At  the  same  moment  a  light  curl  of  smoke  was  wafted 
from  the  heaped  bowlders  in  the  chasm  above,  and  the 
echoes  of  a  rifle-crack  reverberated  among  the  rocks. 

The  assassins  were  terror-struck.  They  looked  all 
around  ;  not  a  human  being  was  in  sight.  Distant  firing 
proclaimed  that  Stackridge  and  his  men  were  still  on- 
gaged.  The  death  that  struck  down  Griffin  seemed  to 
have  fallen  from  heaven.  They  waited  but  a  moment, 
then  fled  precipitately,  leaving  Penn  still  bound,  but  un- 
injured, with  the  dead  rebel  at  his  feet. 

Then  two  figures  came  gliding  swiftly  down  over  the 
rocks.  Penn  uttered  a  cry  of  joy.  It  was  Pomp  and 
Cudjo. 


THE   DEAD    REBEL'S   MUSKET.  209 


XXIY. 


TEE  DEAD  REBEL'S  MUSKET. 


O  M  P  came  reloading  his  rifle,  while  Cudjo, 
knife  in  hand,  flew  at  the  cords  that  confined 
the  schoolmaster. 
In  his  gratitude  to  Heaven  and  his  deliverers,  Penn 
could  have  hugged  that  grotesque,  half-savage  creature 
to  his  heart.  But  no  time  was  to  be  lost.  Snatching 
the  knife,  he  hastened  to  release  the  bewildered  cler- 
gyman. 

"  Pomp,  my  noble  fellow  ! ''  The  negro  turned  from 
looking  after  the  retreating  rebels,  with  a  gleam  of  tri- 
umph on  his  proud  and  lofty  features  :  Penn  wrung  his 
hand.  "  You  have  twice  saved  my  life  —  now  let  me  ask 
one  more  favor  of  you  !  Take  Mr.  Yillars  to  your  cave 
—  do  for  him  what  you  have  done  for  me.  He  is  a  much 
better  Christian,  and  far  more  deserving  of  your  kindness, 
than  I  ever  was." 

"  And  you  ?  "  said  Pomp,  quietly. 

"  I  will  take  my  chance  with  the  others."     And  Penn 
18* 


210  THE   DEAD    REBEL'S   MUSKET. 

in  few  words  explained  the  occurrences  of  the  night  and 
morning. 

Pomp  shrugged  his  shoulders  frowningly.  The  time 
was  at  hand  when  he  and  Cudjo  could  no  longer  enjoy  in 
freedom  their  wila  mountain  life  ;  even  they  must  soon 
be  drawn  into  the  great  deadly  struggle.  This  he  fore- 
saw, and  his  soul  was  darkened  for  a  moment. 

"  Cudjo  !     Shall  we  take  this  old  man  to  our  den  ?  " 

"  No,  no  !  Don't  ye  take  nobody  dar  !  on'y  Massa 
Hapgood." 

"  But  he  is  blind  !  "  said  Penn. 

"  Others  will  come  after  who  are  not  blind,"  said 
Pomp,  his  brow  still  stern  and  thoughtful. 

"  My  friends,"  interposed  the  old  clergyman,  mildly, 
"  do  nothing  for  me  that  will  bring  danger  to  yourselves, 
I  entreat  you  !  " 

These  unselfish  words,  spoken  with  serious  and  benig- 
nant aspect,  touched  the  generous  chords  in  Pomp's 
breast. 

"  Why  should  we  blacks  have  anything  to  do  with  this 
quarrel  ?  "  he  said  with  earnest  feeling.  "  Your  friends 
down  there  "  —  meaning  Stackridge  and  his  party  — 
"  are  all  slaveholders  or  pro-slavery  men.  Why  should 
we  care  which  side  destroys  the  other  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  God,"  answered  Mr.  Villars,  with  a  beam- 
ing light  in  his  unterrified  countenance,  "  who  is  not 
prejudiced  against  color  ;  who  loves  equally  his  black  and 
his  white  children  ;  and  who,  by  means  of  this  war  that 


THE   DEAD    REBEL'S    MUSKET.  211 

seems  so  needless  and  so  cruel,  is  working  out  the  re- 
demption, not  of  the  misguided  white  masters  only,  but 
also  of  the  slave.  Whether  you  will  or  not,  this  war 
concerns  the  black  man,  and  he  cannot  long  keep  out  of 
it.  Then  Avill  you  side  with  your  avowed  enemies,  or 
with  those  who  are  already  fighting  in  your  cause  without 
knowing  it  ?  " 

These  words  probed  the  deep  convictions  of  Pomp's 
breast.  He  had  from  the  first  believed  that  the  war 
meant  death  to  slavery  ;  although  of  late  the  persistent 
and  almost  universal  cry  of  Union  men  for  the  "  Union  as 
it  was,"  —  the  Union  with  the  injustice  of  slavery  at  its 
core,  —  had  somewhat  wearied  his  patience  and  weak- 
ened his  faith. 

"  Here,  Cudjo  !  help  get  this  horse  up  —  we  can  find  a 
path  for  him." 

Reluctantly  Cudjo  obeyed ;  and  almost  by  main 
strength  the  two  athletic  blacks  lifted  and  pulled  the 
animal  up  the  bank,  and  out  of  the  chasm. 

Penn  assisted  his  old  friend  to  remount,  then  took 
leave  of  him. 

"  I  will  be  with  you  again  soon  !  "  he  cried,  hope- 
fully, as  the  negroes  urged  the  horse  forward  into  the 
thickets. 

Then  the  young  Quaker,  left  alone,  turned  to  look  at 
the  dead  rebel.  For  a  moment  horrible  nausea  and  faint- 
ness  made  him  lean  against  the  tree  for  support.  It  was 
the  first  violent  death  of  which  he  had  ever  been  an  eye- 


212  THE  DEAD    REBEL'S   MUSKET. 

witness.  He  had  known  this  man,  —  who  was  indeed 
the  same  Griffin,  who  had  assisted  the  unwilling  Pepper- 
ill  to  bring  the  tar-kettle  to  the  wood-side  on  a  certain 
memorable  evening ;  ignorant,  intemperate,  too  proud  to 
work  in  a  region  where  slavery  made  industry  a  disgrace, 
and  yet  a  fierce  champion  of  the  system  which  was  his 
greatest  curse.  Now  there  he  lay,  in  his  dirt,  and  rags, 
and  blood,  his  neck  shot  through  ;  the  same  expression 
of  ferocious  hate  with  which  he  had  rushed  to  bayonet 
the  schoolmaster  still  distorting  his  visage  ;  —  an  object 
of  horror  and  loathing.  Was  it  not  assuming  a  terrible 
responsibility  to  send  this  rampant  sinner  to  his  long 
account  ?  Yet  the  choice  was  between  his  life  and 
Perm's  ;  and  had  not  Pomp  done  well  ?  Still  Penn  could 
not  help  feeling  remorse  and  commiseration  for  the 
wretch. 

"  Poor  Griffin  !  I  have  no  murderous  hatred  for  such 
as  you  !  But  if  you  come  in  the  way  of  my  country's 
safety,  or  of  the  welfare  of  my  friends,  you  must  take 
the  penalty  !  " 

He  picked  up  the  musket  that  had  fallen  at  his  feet 
where  he  stood  bound.  Then,  stifling  his  disgust,  he  felt 
in  the  dead  man's  pockets  for  ammunition.  Cartridges 
there  were  none ;  but  in  their  place  he  found  some  bul- 
lets and  a  powder-flask.  Then  putting  in  practice  the 
lessons  he  had  learned  of  Pomp  when  they  hunted  to- 
gether on  the  mountain,  he  loaded  the  gun,  resolutely  set- 
ting his  teeth  and  drawing  his  breath  hard  when  he 


THE    DEAD    REBEL'S    MUSKET.  213 

thought  of  the  different  kind  of  game  it  might  now  be 
his  duty  to  shoot. 

While  thus  occupied  he  heard  footsteps  that  gave  him 
a  sudden  start.  He  turned  quickly,  catching  up  the  gun. 
To  his  immense  relief  he  saw  Pomp,  approaching  with  a 
smile. 

"  I  thought  you  were  with  tylr.  Villars  !  " 

"  Cudjo  has  gone  with  him.     I  am  going  with  you." 

"  O  Pomp  !  "  cried  Penn,  with  a  joyful  sense  of  reli- 
ance upon  his  powerful  and  sagacious  black  friend. 
"  But  is  Mr.  Villars  safe  ? " 

"  Cudjo  is  faithful,''  said  Pomp.  "  He  believes  the  old 
man  is  your  friend,  and  a  friend  of  the  slave.  Besides,  I 
promised,  if  he  would  take  him  to  the  cave,  that  my  next 
shot,  if  I  have  a  chance,  should  be  at  his  old  acquaint- 
ance, Sile  Ropes." 

Pomp  took  the  lead,  guiding  Penn  through  hollows 
and  among  thickets  to  a  ledge  crowned  with  shrubs  of 
savin,  whose  summit  commanded  a  view  of  all  that  moun- 
tain-side. 

They  crept  among  the  bushes  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff. 
There  they  paused.  Neither  friend  nor  foe  was  in  sight. 
Xo  sound  of  fire-arms  was  heard,  —  only  the  birds  were 
ringing. 

Penn  never  forgot  that  scene.  How  fresh,  and  beauti- 
ful, and  still  the  morning  was  !  The  sunlight  flushed  the 
craggy  and  wooded  slopes.  Far  off,  dim  with  early  mist, 
lay  the  lovely  hills  and  valleys  of  East  Tennessee.  Oil 


214  THE   DEAD    REBEL'S   MUSKET. 

the  north  the  peaks  of  the  mountain  range  soared  away, 
purple,  rosy,  glorious,  in  soft  suffusing  light.  In  the 
south-west  other  peaks  receded,  billowy  and  blue.  And 
God's  pure,  deep  sky  was  over  all. 

Touched  by  the  divine  beauty  of  the  day,  Penn  lay 
thinking  with  shame  of  the  scenes  of  human  folly  and 
violence  with  which  it  had  been  desecrated,  when  the 
negro  drew  him  softly  by  the  sleeve. 

"  Look  yonder  !  down  in  the  edge  of  that  little  grove  !  " 

Peering  through  an  opening  in  the  savins  through 
which  Pomp  had  thrust  his  rifle,  Penn  saw,  stealing 
cautiously  out  of  the  grove,  a  man. 

"It  is   Stackridge  !     He   is  reconnoitring." 

"It  is  a  retreat,"  said  Pomp.  "  See,  there  they  all 
come !  " 

"  Carl  with  the  rest,  showing  them  the  way  !  "  added 
Penn. 

He  was  watching  with  intense  interest  the  movements 
of  his  friends,  and  rejoicing  that  no  foe  was  in  sight, 
when  suddenly  Pomp  uttered  a  warning  whisper. 

"  Where  ?  what  ?  "  said  Penn,  eagerly  looking  in  the 
direction  in  which  the  negro  pointed. 

Down  at  their  left  was  a  long  line  of  dark  thickets 
which  marked  the  edge  of  a  ravine  ;  out  of  which  he 
now  saw  emerging,  one  by  one,  a  file  of  armed  men. 
They  climbed  up  a  narrow  and  difficult  pass,  and 
halted  on  the  skirts  of  the  thicket.  Ten  —  twelve  —  fif- 
teen, Penn  counted.  It  was  the  other  party  that  had 


THE  DEAD    REBEL'S    MUSKET.  215 

been  sent  out  simultaneously  with  that  under  Lieutenant 
Ropes,  to  get  in  the  rear  of  the  fugitives.  And  they  had 
succeeded.  Only  a  bushy  ridge  concealed  them  from 
Stackridge's  men,  who  were  coming  up  under  the  shelter 
of  the  same  ridge  on  the  other  side. 

Penn  trembled  with  excitement  as  he  saw  the  rebels 
cross  swiftly  forward,  skulking  among  the  bushes,  to  the 
summit  of  the  ridge.  The  negro's  eyes  blazed,  but  he 
was  perfectly  cool.  On  one  knee,  his  left  foot  advanced, 
—  holding  his  rifle  with  one  hand,  and  parting  the  bushes 
with  the  other,  —  he  smiled  as  he  observed  the  situation. 

"  Here,"  said  he  to  Penn,  "  rest  your  gun  in  this  little 
crotch.  Now  can  you  see  to  take  aim  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Penn,  with  his  heart  in  his  throat. 

"  Calm  your  nerves  !  Everything  depends  on  our  first 
shot.  Wait  till  I  give  the  word.  See  !  they  have  dis- 
covered Stackridge  !  " 

"  We  might  shout,  and  warn  him,"  said  Penn,  whose 
nature  still  shrank  from  using  any  more  deadly  means  of 
saving  his  friends. 

"  And  so  discover  ourselves  !  That  never  11  do.  Have 
you  sighted  your  man  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  the  one  lying  on  his  belly  behind  that  cedar." 

"Very  well!  I'll  take  the  fellow  next  him.  The 
moment  you  have  fired,  keep  perfectly  still,  only  draw 
your  gun  back  and  load.  Now  —  fire  !  " 

Just  then  Stackridge  and  his  men,  in  full  view  of  theii 
bidden  friends  on  the  ledge,  were  appearing  to  the  fifteen 


216  THE  DEAD   REBEL'S    MUSKET. 

ambushed  rebels  also.  Suddenly  the  loud  bang  of  a  mus- 
ket, followed  instantly  by  the  sharp  crack  cf  a  rilie, 
echoed  down  the  mountain  side.  The  rebel  behind  the 
cedar  sprang  to  his  feet,  dropping  his  gun,  and  throwing 
up  his  hands,  and  rushed  back  down  the  ridge,  screaming, 
"  I'm  hit !  I'm  hit !  "  while  the  man  next  him  also  at- 
tempted to  rise,  but  fell  again,  Pomp  having  discreetly 
aimed  at  an  exposed  leg. 

"  I'm  glad  we've  only  wounded  them  !  "  whispered 
Penn,  very  pale,  his  lips  compressed,  his  eyes  gleaming. 

"  It  has  the  effect !  "  said  Pomp.  "  Your  friends  have 
discovered  the  ambush,  thanks  to  that  coward's  uproar ; 
and  now  the  rascals  are  panic-struck  !  Fire  again  as  they 
go  into  the  ravine  —  powder  alone  will  do  now  —  a  little 
noise  will  send  them  tumbling  !  " 

They  accordingly  fired  blank  discharges ;  at  the  same 
time  Stackridge  and  his  friends,  recovering  from  their 
momentary  astonishment,  charged  after  the  retreating 
rebels,  who  had  barely  time  to  carry  off  their  wounded 
and  escape  into  the  ravine,  when  their  pursuers  scaled  the 
ridge. 

"I'm  off!"  said  Pomp,  creeping  back  through  the 
savins.  "  These  men  are  not  my  friends,  though  they  are 
yours.  I'll  go  and  look  after  Cudjo.''  And  bounding 
down  into  a  hollow,  he  was  quickly  out  of  sight. 


AXD    WHITE. 


XXV. 


BLACK   AND    WHITE. 


E  N  N  attached  his  handkerchief  to  the  end 
of  the  musket,  and  standing  upon  the  ledge, 
waved  it  over  the  bushes.  Carl,  recognizing 
him,  was  the  first  to  scramble  up  the  height.  The  whole 
party  followed,  each  sturdy  patriot  wringing  the  school- 
master's hand  with  hearty  congratulations  when  they 
learned  what  use  he  had  made  of  the  rebel  musket. 

"  But  the  whole  credit  of  the  manoeuvre  belongs  not  to 
me,  but  to  the  negro  Pomp  !  "  And  he  related  the  story 
of  his  own  rescue  and  theirs. 

The  patriots  looked  grave. 

"  Where  is  the  fellow  ?  "  asked  Stackridge. 

"  Being  a  fugitive  slave,  he  feared  lest  he  should  find 
little  favor  in  the  eyes  of  his  master's  neighbors,"  said 
Penn. 

"  That's  where  he  was  right  ! "  said  Deslow,  with  a 
bigoted  and  unforgiving  expression.  "  Nothing  under  the 
sun  shall  make  me  give  encouragement  to  a  nigger's  run- 
ning away."  19 


£18  SLACK  AXD 

Two  or  three  others  nodded  grim  assent  to  this  first 
principle  of  the  slaveholder's  discipline.  Penn  was  fired 
with  exasperation  and  scorn,  and  would  have  separated 
himself  from  these  narrow-minded  patriots  on  the  spot, 
had  not  Stackridge  jumped  up  from  the  ground  upon  which 
he  had  thrown  himself,  and,  striking  his  gun  ban-el  fiercely, 
exclaimed,  — 

"  Now,  that's  what  I  call  cursed  foolishness,  Deslow ! 
and  every  man  that  holds  to  that  way  of  thinking  had  bet- 
ter  go  over  to  t'other  side  to  oncet !  If  we  can't  make  up 
our  minds  to  sacrifice  our  property,  and,  what's  more  to 
some  folks,  our  prejudices,  in  the  cause  we're  fighting  for, 
we  may  as  well  stop  before  we  stir  a  step  further.  I'm  a 
slaveholder,  and  always  have  been ;  but  I  swear,  I  can't 
say  as  I  ever  felt  it  was  such  a  divine  institution  as  some 
try  to  make  it  out,  and  I  don't  believe  there's  a  man  here 
that  thinks  in  his  heart  that  it's  just  right.  And  as  for 
the  niggers  running  away,  my  private  sentiment  is,  that  I 
don't  blame  'em  a  mite.  You  or  I,  Deslow,  would  run 
in  their  place ;  you  know  you  would."  And  Stackridgf 
wiped  his  brow  savagely. 

"  And  as  for  this  particular  case,"  said  Captain  Grudd, 
with  a  gleam  of  light  in  his  lean  and  swarthy  counte- 
nance, "don't  le's  be  blind  to  our  owe  interests;  don't 
le's  be  downright  fools.  I've  said  froir  the  first  that 
slavery  and  the  rebellion  was  brother  and  sister,  —  they  go 
together ;  and  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  stand  by  my 
country  and  the  old  flag,  whatever  comes  of  tha  institu- 


BLACK  AND    WHITE.  219 

,ion."  All,  except  the  conservative  Deslow,  applauded 
this  resolution.  "  Then  consider,"  added  the  captain,  his 
deliberate,  impressive  manner  proving  quite  as  effective  as 
Stackridge's  more  excited  and  fiery  style,  —  "here  we  are 
fighting  for  our  very  lives  rnd  liberties ;  and  if,  as  I  say, 
slavery's  the  cause  of  this  war,  then  we're  fighting  against 
slavery,  the  best  we  can  fix  it.  How  monstrous  absurd 
'twill  be,  then,  for  us  to  refuse  the  assistance  of  any  nigger 
that  has  it  to  give  !  Bythewood,  Pomp's  owner,  is  one  of 
the  hottest  secessionists  I  know ;  and  d'ye  think  I  want 
Pomp  sent  back  to  him,  to  help  that  side,  when  he  has 
shown  that  he  can  be  of  such  mighty  good  service  to  us  ? 
I  move  that  we  send  the  professor  to  make  a  treaty  with 
him.  What  do  you  say,  Mr.  Hapgood  ?  " 

"  I  say,"  replied  Penn  with  enthusiasm,  "  that  he  and 
Cudjo  are  in  a  condition  to  do  infinitely  more  for  us  than 
we  can  do  for  them  ;  and  if  their  alliance  can  be  secured, 
I  say  that  we  ought  by  all  means  to  secure  it." 

"  That  depends,"  said  Grudd,  "  upon  what  we  intend 
to  do.  Are  we  going  to  make  a  stand  here,  and  see  if  the 
loyal  part  of  old  Tennessee  will  rise  up  and  sustain  us  ?  or 
are  we  going  to  fight  our  way  over  the  mountains,  and 
never  come  back  till  a  Union  army  comes  with  us  to  set 
things  a  little  to  rights  here  ?  " 

"  Wa'al,"  said  Withers,  who  concealed  a  hardy  courage 
and  earnest  patriotism  under  a  phlegmatic  and  droll  ex- 
terior, "  while  we're  discussin'  that  question,  I  reckon  we 
may  as  well  have  breakfast.  This  is  as  good  a  place  as 


220  BLACK  AXD    WHITb. 

any,  —  we  can  take  turns  keeping  a  lookout  from  that 
ledge." 

He  proceeded  to  kindle  a  fire  in  the  hollow.  The 
fugitives,  in  passing  a  field  of  corn,  had  thrust  into  their 
pockets  a  plentiful  supply  of  green  ears,  which  they  now 
husked  and  roasted.  There  was  a  spring  in  the  rocks 
near  by,  from  which  they  drank  lying  on  their  faces,  and 
dipping  in  their  beards.  This  was  then*  breakfast ;  during 
which  Penn's  mission  to  the  blacks  was  fully  discussed, 
and  finally  decided  upon. 

The  msal  concluded,  the  refugees  resumed  their  march, 
and  entered  an  immense  thick  wood  farther  up  the  moun- 
tain. In  a  cool  and  shadowy  spot  they  halted  once  more  ; 
and  here  Penn  took  leave  of  them,  setting  out  on  his  visit 
to  the  cave. 

He  had  a  mile  to  travel  over  a  rough,  wild  region, 
where  the  fires  that  had  formerly  devastated  it  had  left  the 
only  visible  marks  of  a  near  civilization.  In  a  tranquil 
little  dell  that  had  grown  up  to  wild  grass,  he  came  sud- 
denly upon  a  horss  feeding.  It  was  Stackridge's  useful 
nag.  which  looked  up  from  his  lofty  grove-shaded  pasture 
with  a  low  whinny  of  recognition  as  Penn  patted  his  neck 
and  passed  along. 

A  furlong  or  two  farther  on  the  well-known  ravine 
opened,  —  dark,  silent,  profound,  with  its  shaggy  sides, 
one  in  shadow  and  the  other  in  the  sun,  and  its  little  em- 
bowered brook  trickling  far  down  there  amid  mossy 
stones  ;  —  as  lonesome,  wild,  and  solitary  as  if  no  burner: 
eye  had  ever  beheld  it  before. 


BLACK  AND    WHITE.  221 

Penn  glided  over  the  ledges,  and  descended  along  the 
narrow  shelf  of  rock,  behind  the  thickets  that  screened  the 
entrance  to  the  cave.  Sunlight,  and  mountain  wind,  and 
summer  heat  he  left  behind,  and  entered  the  cool,  still, 
gloomy  abode. 

Cudjo  ran  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave  to  meet  him.  "  Let 
me  frow  dis  yer  blanket  ober  your  shoulders,  while  ye  cool 
off;  cotch  yer  de'f  cold,  if  ye  don't.  De  ol'  man's  a 
'speckin'  ye." 

Penn  was  relieved  to  learn  that  Mr.  Villars  had  arrived 
in  safety,  and  gratified  to  find  him  lying  comfortably  on 
the  bed  conversing  with  Pomp. 

"  By  the  blessing  of  God,  I  am  very  well  indeed,  my 
dear  Penn.  These  excellent  fellow-Christians  have  taken 
the  best  of  care  of  me.  The  atmosphere  of  the  cave, 
which  I  thought  at  first  chilly,  I  now  find  deliciously  pure 
and  refreshing.  And  its  gloom,  you  know,  don't  trouble 
me,"  added  the  blind  old  man  with  a  smile.  "  Have  you 
had  any  more  trouble  since  Pomp  left  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Penn  ;  "  thanks  to  him.  Pomp,  our  friei/ds 
want  to  see  you  and  thank  you,  and  they  have  sent  me  *.o 
bring  you  to  them." 

The  negro  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  smiled. 

"  What  good  der  tanks  do  to  we  ? "  cried  Cudjo. 
"  Ain't  one  ob  dem  ar  men  but  what  would  been  glad  to 
hab  us  cotched  and  licked  for  runnin'  away,  fur  de  'xample 
to  de  tudder  niggers." 

"  If  that  was  true  of  them  once,  it  is  'not  now,"  said 
19* 


ii'22  BLACK   AXD    WHITE. 

Penn.  "  Yet,  Pomp,  if  you  feel  that  there  is  the  least 
danger  in  going  to  them,  do  not  go." 

"  Danger  ? "  The  negro's  proud  and  lofty  look  showed 
what  he  thought  of  that.  "  Cudjo,  make  Mr.  Hapgood  a 
cup  of  coffee  ;  he  looks  tired.  You  have  had  a  hard  time, 
I  reckon,  since  you  left  us." 

"  Him  stay  wid  us  now  till  he  chirk  up  again,"  said 
Cudjo,  running  to  his  coffee-box.  "  Him  and  de  ol'  gem- 
man  stay  —  nobody  else." 

While  the  coffee  was  making,  Penn,  sitting  on  one  of 
the  stone  blocks  which  he  had  named  giant's  stools, 
repeated  such  parts  of  the  late  breakfast  talk  of  Stackridge 
and  his  friends  as  he  thought  would  interest  Pomp  and 
win  his  confidence.  Then  he  drank  the  strong,  black 
beverage  in  silence,  leaving  the  negro  to  his  own  reflec- 
tions. 

"  Are  you  going  again  ?  "  said  Pomp. 

"  Yes  ;  I  promised  them  I  would  return." 

"  Take  some  coffee  and  a  kettle  to  boil  it  in ;  they  will 
be  glad  of  it,  I  should  think." 

'•  O  Pomp  !  you  know  how  to  do  good  even  to  your  ene- 
mies !  What  shall  I  say  to  them  for  you  ?  " 

"  What  I  have  to  say  to  them  I  will  say  myself,"  said 
Pomp,  taking  his  rifle  in  one  hand,  and  the  kettle  in  the 
other,  to  Cudjo's  great  wrath  and  disgust. 

He  set  out  with  Penn  immediately.  They  found  the 
patriots  reposing  themselves  about  the  roots  of  the  forest 
trees,  on  the  banks  of  a  stream  that  came  gurgling  and 


BLACK  AND    WHITE.  223 

plashing  down  the  mountain  side.  Above  them  spread 
the  beautiful  green  tops  of  maples,  tinted  with  sunshine 
and  softly  rustling  in  the  breeze.  The  curving  banks 
formed  here  a  little  natural  amphitheatre,  carpeted  v.-ith 
moss  and  old  leaves,  on  which  they  sat  or  reclined,  with 
their  hats  off  'and  their  guns  at  their  sides. 

A  sentry  posted  on  the  edge  of  the  forest  brought  in 
Penn  and  hi*  companion.  There  was  a  stir  of  interest 
among  the  patriots,  and  some  of  them  rose  to  their  feet. 
Stackridge,  Grudd,  and  two  or  three  others  cordially 
offered  the  negro  their  hands,  and  pledged  him  their  grat- 
itude and  friendship.  Pomp  accepted  these  tokens  of 
esteem  in  silence,  —  his  countenance  maintaining  a  some- 
what haughty  expression,  his  lips  firm,  his  eyes  kindling 
with  a  strange  light. 

Penn  took  the  kettle,  and  proceeded,  with  Carl's  help, 
to  make  a  fire  and  prepare  coffee  for  the  company, 
intently  listening  the  while  to  all  that  was  said. 

Jutting  from  one  bank  of  the  stream,  which  washed  its 
base,  was  a  huge,  square  block  covered  with  dark-green 
moss.  Upon  this  Pomp  stepped,  and  rested  his  rifle  upon 
it,  and  bared  his  massive  and  splendid  head,  and  stood 
facing  his  auditors  with  a  placid  smile,  under  the  canopy 
of  leaves.  There  was  not  among  them  all  so  noble  a  fig- 
ure of  a  man  as  he  who  stood  upon  the  rock  :  and  he 
seemed  to  have  chosen  this  somewhat  theatrical  attitude 
in  order  to  illustrate,  by  his  own  imposing  personal 
presence,  the  words  that  rose  to  his  lips. 


224  BLACK  AND    WHITE. 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  gentlemen,  if  I  cannot  forget 
that  I  am  talking  with  those  who  buy  and  sell  men 
like  me  !  " 

Men  like  him  !  The  suggestion  seemed  for  a  moment 
to  strike  the  slave-owning  patriots  dumb  with  surprise 
and  embarrassment. 

"  No,  no,  Pomp,"  cried  Stackridge,  "  not  men  like 
you  —  there  are  few  like  you  anywhere." 

"  I  wish  there  was  more  like  him,  and  that  I  owned  a 
good  gang  of  'em  !  "  muttered  the  man  Deslow. 

"  I  don't,"  replied  Withers,  with  a  drawl  which  had  a 
deep  meaning  in  it ;  "  twould  be  too  much  like  sleep- 
ing on  a  row  of  powder  barrels,  with  lighted  candles 
stuck  in  the  bung  holes.  Dangerous,  them  big  knowin' 
niggers  be." 

Pomp  did  not  answer  for  a  minute,  but  stood  as  if 
gathering  power  into  himself,  with  one  long,  deep  breath 
inflating  his  chest,  and  casting  a  glance  upward  through 
the  sun-lit  summer  foliage. 

"  You  buy  and  sell  men,  and  women,  and  children  of 
my  race.  If  I  am  not  like  them,  it  is  because  circum- 
stances have  lifted  me  out  of  the  wretched  condition  in 
which  it  is  your  constant  policy  and  endeavor  to  keep  us. 
By  your  laws  —  the  laws  you  make  and  uphold  —  I  am 
this  day  claimed  as  a  slave  ;  by  your  laws  I  am  hunted  as 
a  slave  ;  —  yes,  some  of  you  here  have  joined  your  neigh- 
bor in  the  hunt  for  me,  as  if  I  was  no  more  than  a  wild 
beast  to  be  hounded  and  shot  down  if  I  could  not  be 


BLACK  AND    WHITE.  225 

caught.  Now  tell  me  what  union  or  concord  there  can 
be  between  you  and  me  !  " 

"I  own,"  said  Deslow, —  for  Pomp's  gleaming  eyes 
had  darted  significant  lightnings  at  him,  —  "I  did  once 
come  up  here  with  Bythewood  to  see  if  we  could  find  you. 
Not  that  I  had  anything  against  you,  Pomp,  —  not  a 
thing  ;  and  as  for  your  quarrel  with  your  master,  I  ain't 
sure  but  you  had  the  right  on't ;  but  you  know  as  well  as 
we  do  that  we  can't  countenance  a  nigger's  running  away, 
under  any  circumstances." 

"  No  !  "  said  Pomp,  with  sparkling  sarcasm.  "  Your 
secessionist  neighbors  revolt  against  the  mildest  govern- 
ment in  the  world,  and  resort  to  bloodshed  on  account  of 
some  fancied  wrongs.  You  revolt  against  them  because 
you  prefer  the  old  government  to  theirs.  Your  forefathers 
went  to  war  with  the  mother  country  on  account  of  a  few 
taxes.  But  a  negro  must  not  revolt,  he  must  not  even 
attempt  to  run  away,  although  he  feels  the  relentless  heel 
of  oppression  grinding  into  the  dust  all  his  rights,  all  that 
is  dear  to  him,  all  that  he  loves !  A  white  man  may  take 
up  arms  to  defend  a  bit  of  property  ;  but  a  black  man  has 
no  right  to  rise  up  and  defend  either  his  wife,  or  his  child, 
or  his  liberty,  or  even  his  own  life,  against  his  master  !  " 

Only  the  narrow-minded  Deslow  had  the  confidence  to 
meet  this  stunning  argument,  enforced  as  it  was  by  the 
speaker's  powerful  manner,  superb  physical  manhood,  and 
superior  intelligence. 

"  You  know,  Pomp,  that  your  condition,  to  begin  with. 


226  BLACK   AXD    WHITE. 

is  very  different  from  that  of  any  white  man.  Your  rela- 
tion to  your  master  is  not  that  of  a  man  to  his  neighbor, 
or  of  a  citizen  to  the  government ;  it  is  that  of  property 
to  its  owner." 

"  Property  !  "  There  was  something  almost  wicked  in 
the  wild,  bright  glance  with  which  the  negro  repeated 
this  word.  "  How  came  we  property,  sir  :  " 

"  Our  laws  make  you  so,  and  you  have  been  acquired 
as  property,"  said  Deslow,  not  unkindly,  but  in  his  big- 
oted, obstinate  way.  "  So,  really,  Pomp,  you  can't  blame 
us  for  the  view  we  take  of  it,  though  it  does  conflict  a 
little  with  your  choice  in  the  matter." 

"  But  suppose  I  can  show  you  that  you  are  wrong,  and 
that  even  by  your  own  laws  we  are  not,  and  cannot  be, 
property  ?  "  said  Pomp,  with  a  princely  courtesy,  looking 
down  from  the  rock  upon  Deslow,  so  evidently  in  every 
way  his  inferior.  "  I  will  admit  your  title  to  a  lot  of 
land  you  may  purchase,  or  reclaim  from  nature  :  or  to  an 
animal  you  have  captured,  or  bought,  or  raised.  But  a 
man's  natural,  original  owner  is  —  himself.  Now,  I  never 
sold  myself.  My  father  never  sold  himself.  My  father 
was  stolen  by  pirates  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  and  brought 
to  this  country,  and  sold.  The  man  who  bought  him 
bought  what  had  been  stolen.  By  your  own  laws  you 
cannot  hold  stolen  property.  Though  it  is  bought  and 
sold  a  thousand  times,  let  the  original  owner  appear,  and 
it  is  his,  —  nobody  else  has  the  shadow  of  a  claim.  My 
father  was  stolen  property,  if  he  was  property  at  all  He 


BLACK  AXD    WHITE.  227 

was  his  own  rightful  owner.  Though  he  had  been  robbed 
of  himself,  that  made  no  difference  with  the  justice  of  the 
case.  It  was  so  with  my  mother.  It  is  so  with  me.  It 
is  the  same  with  every  black  man  on  this  continent.  Not 
one  ever  sold  himself,  or  can  be  sold,  or  can  be  owned. 
For  to  say  that  what  a  man  steals  or  takes  by  force  is  his, 
to  dispose  of  as  he  chooses,  is  to  go  back  to  barbarism : 
it  is  not  the  law  of  any  Christian  land.  So  much,"  added 
Pomp,  blowing  the  words  from  him,  as  if  all  the  false 
arguments  in  favor  of  slavery  were  no  more  to  the  man's 
soul,  and  its  eternal,  God-given  rights,  than  the  breath  he 
blew  contemptuously  forth  into  those  mountain  woods,  — 
••  so  much  for  the  claim  of  PROPERTY  !  " 

Perm  was  so  delighted  with  this  triumphant  declaration 
of  principles  that  he  could  have  flung  his  hat  into  the 
maple  boughs  and  shouted  "  Bravo  !  "  He  deemed  it 
discreet,  however,  to  confine  the  expression  of  his  enthu- 
siasm to  a  tight  grasp  on  Carl's  sympathetic  hand,  and  to 
watch  the  effect  of  the  speech  on  the  rest. 

"  Deslow,''  laughed  Stackridge,  himself  not  ill  pleased 
with  Pomp's  arguments,  "  what  do  you  say  to  that  ?  " 

"  Wai,"  said  Deslow,  "  I  never  thought  on't  in  just 
that  light  before ;  and  I  own  he  makes  out  a  pooty  good 
show  of  a  case.  But  yet  — "  He  hesitated,  scratch- 
ing for  an  idea  among  the  stiff  black  hair  that  grew  on 
his  low,  wrinkled  forehead. 

"  But  yet,  but  yet,  but  yet !  "  said  Pomp,  ironically. 
"  It's  so  hard,  when  our  selfish  interests  are  at  stake,  to 


228  BLACK  AND    WRITE. 

confess  our  injustice  or  give  up  a  bad  cause  !  But  I  did  not 
come  here  to  argue  my  right  to  my  own  manhood.  I  take 
it  without  arguing.  Neither  did  I  come  to  ask  anything 
for  myself.  You  can  do  nothing  for  me  but  get  me  into 
trouble.  Yet  I  believe  in  the  cause  in  which  you  have 
tnken  up  arms.  I  have  served  you  this  morning  without 
being  asked  by  you  to  do  it ;  and  I  may  assist  you  again 
when  the  time  comes.  In  the  mean  while,  if  you  want 
anything  that  I  have,  it  is  yours  ;  for  I  recognize  that  we 
are  brothers,  though  you  do  not.  But  I  will  not  join  you, 
for  I  am  neither  slave  nor  inferior,  and  I  have  no  wish  to 
be  acknowledged  an  equal."  And  Pomp  stepped  off  the 
rock  with  an  air  that  seemed  to  say,  "  /  know  who  is  the 
equal  of  the  best  of  you  ;  and  that  is  enough."  If  this 
man  had  any  fault  more  prominent  than  another,  it  was 
pride  ;  yet  that  haughty  self-assertion  which  would  have 
been  offensive  in  a  white  man,  was  vastly  becoming  to 
the  haughty  and  powerful  black. 

"  I,  for  one,"  said  the  impulsive  Stackridge,  again 
grasping  his  hand,  "  honor  the  position  you  take.  What 
I  wanted  was  to  thank  you  for  what  you  have  done,  and  to 
promise  that  you  are  safe  from  danger  as  far  as  regards 
us.  I'm  glad  you've  got  your  liberty.  I  hope  you  will 
keep  it.  You  deserve  it.  Every  slave  deserves  the  same 
that  has  the  manliness  to  strike  a  blow  for  the  good  old 
government " 

"  That  has  kept  him  a  slave,"  added  Pomp,  with  a 
bitter  smile. 


SLACK  AND     WHITE.  229 

"  Yes  ;  and  so  much  the  more  noble  in  him  to  fight  for 
it !  "  said  Stackridge.  "  Now,  if  you  don't  want  to  let  us 
into  the  secrets  of  your  way  of  life,  I  can't  say  I  blame 
ye.  We're  glad  to  get  the  coffee  ;  and  if  you've  any 
game  or  potatoes  on  hand,  that  you  can  spare,  we'll  take 
'em,  and  pay  ye  when  we  have  a  chance  to  forage  for  our- 
selves, which  won't  be  long  first." 

"  I  have  some  salted  bear's  meat  that  you'll  be  wel- 
come to ;  and  may  be  Cudjo  can  spare  a  little  meal.'' 
His  eye  rested  on  Carl,  whose  fidelity  he  knew.  "  Let 
that  boy  come  with  us  !  We  will  send  the  provisions  by 
him." 

Carl  was  delighted  with  the  honor,  for  Penn  was  like* 
wise  going  back  to  Mr.  Villars  with  the  negro. 
20 


230          WHY  AUGUSTUS   DID    XOT  PROPOSE. 


XXVI. 


WHY  AUGUSTUS  DID  NOT  PROPOSE. 


HE  valiant  confederates,  returning  from  the 
pursuit  of  the  escaped  prisoners,  proved 
themselves  possessed  of  at  least  one  im- 
portant qualification  for  serving  the  rebel  cause.  They 
were  able  to  give  a  marvellously  good  account  of  them- 
selves. Whatever  the  military  authorities  may  have 
thought  of  it,  the  people  believed  that  the  little  band  of 
Union  men  had  been  nearly  annihilated. 

In  the  midst  of  the  excitement,  Mr.  Augustus  Bythe- 
wood  returned  home,  and  went  in  the  evening  to  call 
upon,  counsel,  and  console  the  daughters  of  the  old 
man  Villars. 

"  O,  Massa  Bythewood  !  "  cried  Toby,  in  '  great  joy 
at  sight  of  him,  "  dey  been  killin'  ol'  massa  up  on  de 
mountain  ;  and  de  young  ladies  —  O,  Massa  Bvthewood  ! 
ye  must  do  sumfin'  for  de  young  ladies  and  ol'  massa ! " 

Mr.  Augustus  flattered  himself  that  he  had  arrived 
at  just  the  right  time. 


WHY  AUGUSTUS   DID   NOT  PROPOSE.         231 

"  My  dear  Virginia  !  you  cannot  conceive  of  my  aston- 
ishment and  grief  on  hearing  what  has  happened  to  your 
family  !  I  have  but  just  this  hour  returned  to  town,  or  I 
should  have  hastened  before  to  assure  you  that  all  I  can 
do  for  you  I  will  most  gladly  undertake.  My  very  dear 
young  lady,  be  comforted,  I  conjure  you  ;  for  it  grieves 
me  to  the  heart  to  see  how  pale,  how  very  pale  and  dis- 
tressed, you  look ! " 

Thus  the  amiable,  the  chivalrous,  the  friendly  Gus 
overflowed  with  eloquent  sympathy  and  protestation, 
pressing  affectionately  the  hand  of  the  "  very  pale  and 
distressed"  fair  one,  and  bowing  low  his  dark,  aris- 
tocratic southern  curls  over  it ;  appearing,  in  short, 
the  very  courteous,  noble,  and  devoted  gentleman  he 
wasn't. 

Virginia  breathed  hard,  compressed  her  lips,  white  with 
indignation  as  well  as  with  suffering,  and  let  him  act  his 
part.  And  the  confident  lover  did  not  dream  that  those 
eyes,  red  with  grief  and  surrounded  by  dark  circles,  saw 
through  all  his  hypocritical  professions,  or  that  the  cold, 
passive  little  hand,  abandoned  through  the  apathy  of 
despair  to  his  caresses,  would  have  been  thrust  into  the 
fire,  before  ever  he  would  have  been  allowed  to  win  it. 

"  Surely,"  she  managed  to  say  in  a  voice  scarce  above 
a  whisper,  "  if  ever  we  needed  a  true,  disinterested  friend, 
it  is  now.  Sit  down  ;  and  be  so  kind  as  to  excuse  me  a 
moment.  I  will  call  my  sister." 

So   she   withdrew.     And  Augustus  smiled.     "  Now  is 


232          WHY  AUGUSTUS  DID   NOT  PROPOSE. 

my  time  ! "  he  said  complacently  to  himself,  resolved  to 
make  an  offer  of  that  valuable  hand  of  his  that  very 
night :  forlorn,  friendless,  wretched,  was  it  possible  that 
she  could  refuse  such  a  prize  ?  So  he  sat,  and  fondled  his 
curls,  and  practised  sweet  smiles,  and  sympathized  with 
Salina  when  she  came,  and  waited  for  Virginia,  —  little 
knowing  what  was  to  happen  to  her,  and  to  him,  and  to 
all,  before  ever  he  saw  that  vanished  face  again. 

For  Virginia  had  business  on  her  hands  that  night. 
She  remembered  the  hurried  directions  Penn  had  given 
for  communicating  with  her  father,  and  she  was  already 
preparing  to  send  off  Toby  to  the  round  rock. 

"  Gracious,  missis  ! "  said  the  old  negro,  returning 
hastily  to  the  kitchen  door  where  she  stood  watching  his 
departure,  "  dar's  a  man  out  dar,  a  waitin' !  Did  ye  see 
him,  missis  ?  " 

She  had  indeed  seen  a  human  figure  advance  in  the 
darkness,  as  if  with  intent  to  intercept  or  follow  him. 
Perplexed  and  indignant  at  the  discovery,  she  suffered  the 
old  servant  to  return  into  the  house,  and  remained  herself 
to  see  what  became  of  the  figure.  It  moved  off  a  little 
way  in  the  darkness,  and  disappeared. 

"  Wha'  sh'll  we  do  ? "  Toby  rolled  up  his  eyes  in 
consternation.  "  Do  jes'  speak  to  Mr.  Bythewood. 
Miss  Jinny ;  he's  de  bestist  friend  —  he'll  tell  what 
to  do." 

"  No,  no,  Toby  !  "  said  Virginia,  collecting  herself,  and 
speaking  with  decision.  "  He  is  the  last  person  I  would 


WHY  AUGUSTUS   DID   NOT  PROPOSE.         233 

consult.  Toby,  you  must  try  again ;  for  either  you  or  I 
must  be  at  the  rock  before  ten  o'clock." 

'  You,  Miss  Jinny  ?    Who  eber  heern  o'  sich  a  ting  !  " 

"  Go  yourself,  then,  good  Toby  !  "  And  she  earnestly 
reminded  him  of  the  necessity. 

"  O,  yes,  yes !  I'll  go !  Massa  can't  lib  widout  ol' 
Toby,  dat's  a  fac'  i  " 

But  looking  out  again  in  the  dark,  his  zeal  was  sud- 
denly damped.  "  Dey  cotch  me,  dey  sarve  me  wus  'n 
dey  sarved  ol'  Pete,  shore !  Can't  help  tinkiu'  ob 
dat !  " 

Virginia  saw  what  serious  cause  there  was  to  dread 
such  a  catastrophe.  But  her  resolution  was  unshaken. 

"  Toby,  listen.  That  man  out  there  is  a  spy.  His 
object  is  to  see  if  any  of  our  friends  come  to  the  house, 
or  if  we  send  to  them.  He  won't  molest  you  ;  but  he 
may  follow  to  see  where  you  go.  If  he  does,  then  make 
a  wide  circuit,  and  return  home,  and  I  will  find  some 
other  means  of  communication." 

Thus  encouraged,  the  negro  set  out  a  second  time. 
Virginia  followed  him  at  a  distance.  She  saw,  as  she 
anticipated,  the  figure  start  up  again,  and  move  off  in  the 
direction  he  was  going.  Toby  accordingly  commenced 
making  a  large  detour  through  the  fields,  and  both  he  and 
the  shadow  dogging  him  were  soon  out  of  sight. 

Then  Virginia  lost  no  time  in  executing  the  other  plan 
at  which  she  had  hinted.  Instead  of  returning,  to  give 
up  the  undertaking  in  despair,  and  listen  to  matrimonial 
20* 


2o4         WHY  AUGUSTUS   DID   XOT  PROPOSE. 

proposals  from  Gus  Bythewood,  she  took  a  long  breath, 
gathered  up  her  skirts,  and  set  out  for  the  mountain. 

There  was  a  new  moon,  but  it  was  hidden  by  clouds. 
Still  the  evening  was  not  very  dark.  The  long  twilight 
of  the  summer  day  still  lingered  in  the  valley.  Here 
and  there  she  could  distinguish  landmarks,  —  a  knoll,  a 
rock,  or  a  tree,  —  which  gave  her  confidence.  I  will  not 
say  that  she  feared  nothing.  She  was  by  nature  timid,  im- 
aginative, and  she  feared  many  things.  Her  own  footsteps 
were  a  terror  to  her.  The  moving  of  a  bush  in  the  wind, 
the  starting  of  a  rabbit  from  her  path,  caused  her  flesh  to 
thrill.  At  sight  of  an  object  slowly  and  noiselessly 
emerging  from  the  darkness  and  standing  before  her, 
motionless  and  spectral,  she  almost  fainted,  until  she 
discovered  that  it  was  an  old  acquaintance,  a  tall  pine 
stump.  But  all  these  childish  terrors  she  resolutely  over- 
came. Her  heart  never  faltered  in  its  purpose.  Affec- 
tion for  her  father,  anxiety  for  his  welfare,  and,  it  may  be, 
some  little  solicitude  for  her  father's  friend,  who  had  ap- 
pointed the  tryst  at  the  rock,  —  not  with  herself,  indeed, 
but  with  Toby,  —  kept  her  firm  and  unwavering  in  her 
course.  And  beneath  all,  deep  in  her  soul,  was  a  strong 
religious  sense,  a  faith  in  a  divine  guidance  and  protection. 

What  most  she  feared  was  neither  ghost  nor  wild 
beast  of  the  mountains.  She  felt  that,  if  she  could  avoid 
encountering  the  brutal  soldiers  of  secession,  keeping 
watch  along  the  mountain-side,  she  would  willingly  risk 
everything  else.  With  the  utmost  caution,  with  breath- 


WHY  AUGUSTUS    DID    NOT  PROPOSE.         235 

less  tread,  she  drew  near  the  road  she  was  to  cross.  Her 
footsteps  were  less  loud  than  her  heart-beats.  Dogs 
barked  in  the  distance.  In  a  pool  near  by,  some  happy 
frogs  were  singing.  The  shrill  cry  of  a  katydid  came 
from  a  poplar  tree  by  the  road  — "  Katy  did!  Katy 
didn't !  "  with  vehement  iteration  and  contradiction. 
No  other  sounds ;  she  waited  and  listened  long ;  then 
glided  across  the  road. 

She  had  come  far  from  the  village  in  order  to  avoid 
meeting  any  one.  Her  course  now  lay  directly  up  the 
mountain-side.  The  round  rock  was  a  famous  bowlder 
known  to  picnic  parties  that  frequented  the  spot  in  sum- 
mer to  enjoy  a  view  from  its  summit,  and  a  luncheon 
under  its  shadow.  She  had  been  there  a  dozen  times ; 
but  could  she  find  it  in  the  night  ?  In  vain,  as  she  toiled 
upwards,  she  strained  her  eyes  to  see  the  huge  dim  stone 
jutting  out  from  the  shadowy  rocks  and  bushes. 

At  length  a  sudden  light,  faint  and  silvery,  streamed 
down  upon  her.  She  looked  and  saw  the  clouds  parted, 
and  below  them  the  crescent  moon  setting,  like  a  cimeter 
of  white  flame  withdrawn  by  an  invisible  hand  behind  the 
vast  shadowy  summit  of  the  mountain.  Almost  at  the 
same  moment  she  discovered  the  object  she  sought.  The 
rock  was  close  before  her ;  and  close  upon  her  right  was 
the  grove  which  she  herself  had  so  often  helped  to  fill 
with  singing  and  laughter.  How  little  she  felt  like  either 
singing  or  laughing  now  ! 

She    remembered  —  indeed,  had   she   not  remembered 


236          WHY  AUGUSTUS   DID    NOT  PROPOSE. 

all  the  way  ?  —  that  the  last  time  she  visited  the  spot  it 
was  in  company  with  Penn.  Now  she  had  come  to 
meet  him  again  —  ho'.v  unmaidenly  the  act !  In  dark- 
ness, in  loneliness,  far  from  the  village  and  its  twin- 
kling lights,  to  meet  an  attractive  and  a  very  good 
looking  young  man !  What  would  the  world  say  r 
Virginia  did  not  care  what  the  world  would  say.  But  now 
she  began  to  question  within  herself,  "  What  would  Penn 
think  ? "  and  almost  to  shrink  from  meeting  him. 
Strong,  however,  in  her  own  conscious  purity  of  heart, 
strong  also  in  her  confidence  in  him,  she  put  behind 
her  every  unworthy  thought,  and  sought  the  shelter 
of  the  rock. 

And  there,  after  all  her  labors  and  fears,  scratches 
in  her  flesh  and  rents  in  her  clothes,  —  there  she  was 
alone,  Penn  had  not  come.  Perhaps  he  would  not 
come.  It  was  by  this  time  ten  o'clock.  What  should 
she  do  ?  Remain,  hoping  that  he  would  yet  fulfil  his 
promise  ?  or  return  the  way  she  came,  unsatisfied,  dis- 
heartened, weary,  her  heart  and  strength  sustained  by 
no  word  of  comfort  from  him,  by  no  tidings  from  her 
father  ? 

She  waited.  It  was  not  long  before  her  eager  ear 
caught  the  sound  of  footsteps.  An  active  figure  was 
coming  along  the  edge  of  the  grove.  How  joyously 
her  heart  bounded !  In  order  that  Penn  might  not 
be  too  suddenly  surprised  at  finding  her  in  Toby's 
place,  she  stepped  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  bowlder, 


WHY  AUGUSTUS   DID   NOT  PROPOSE.         237 

and   advanced    to    meet   him.      She    shrank   back    again 
as  suddenly,  fear  curdling  her  blood. 

The  comer  was  not  Penn.  He  wore  the  confederate 
uniform :  this  was  what  terrified  her.  She  crouched 
down  under  the  rock ;  but  perceiving  that  the  man 
aid  not  pass  by,  —  that  he  walked  straight  up  to  her,  — • 
she  started  forth  again,  in  the  vain  hope  to  escape  by 
flight.  Almost  at  the  first  step  she  tripped  and  fell; 
and  the  hand  of  the  confederate  soldier  was  on  her 
arm. 


238     THE  HEX  tf IT  a  THE  DARK  LANTERN. 


XXVII. 


THE    MEN    WITH   THE    DARK   LANTERN. 


HE  moon  had  now  set,  and  it  was  dark. 
The  frightened  girl  could  not  distinguish  the 
features  of  him  who  bent  over  her ;  but 
through  the  trance  of  horror  that  was  upon  her,  she  rec- 
ognized a  voice. 

"  Wirginie  !  I  tought  it  vas  you  !  Don't  you  know 
me,  Wirginie : " 

No  voice  had  ever  before  brought  such  joy  to  her  soul. 

"  O  Carl !  why  didn't  I  know  you  ?  " 

"  Vy  not  ?  Pecause  maybe  you  vas  looking  for  some- 
pody  else.  Mishter  Hapgoot  came  part  vay  init  me,  but 
he  vas  so  used  up  I  made  him  shtop  till  I  came  to  pring 
Toby  up  vere  he  is." 

Then  Virginia,  recovering  from  her  agitation,  had  a 
score  of  questions  to  ask  about  her  father,  about  the 
fight,  and  about  Penn. 

"  If  you  vill  only  go  up,  he  vill  tell  you  so  much  more  as 
I  can.  Then  you  vill  go  and  see  your  fahder.  That  vill 


THE  MEN    WITH    THE    DARK   LANTERN.       239 

be  petter  as  going  back  to-night,  vere  there  is  no  goot 
shtout  fellow  in  the  house  to  prewail  on  them  willains  to 
keep  their  dishtance." 

Even  at  the  outset  of  her  adventurous  journey  Vir- 
ginia had  felt  a  vague  hope  that  she  should  visit  her 
father  before  she  returned.  What  the  boy  said  inspired 
her  with  courage  to  proceed.  She  would  go  up  as  far  as 
where  Penn  was  waiting,  at  all  events :  then  she  would 
be  guided  by  his  advice. 

The  two  set  out,  Carl  leading  her  by  the  hand,  and 
assisting  her.  It  grew  darker  and  darker.  The  stars 
were  hidden :  the  sky  was  almost  completely  overcast  by 
black  clouds.  Slowly  and  with  great  difficulty  they  made 
their  way  among  trees  and  bushes,  through  abrupt  hol- 
lows, and  over  rocks.  Virginia  felt  that  she  could  have 
done  nothing  without  Carl :  and  the  thought  of  returning 
alone,  in  such  darkness,  down  the  mountain,  made  her 
shudder. 

But  at  length  even  Carl  began  to  sweat  with  something 
besides  the  physical  exertion  required  in  making  the  as- 
cent. His  mind  had  grown  exceedingly  perturbed,  and 
Virginia  perceived  that  his  course  was  wavering  and  un- 
certain. 

He  stopped,  blowing  and  wiping  his  face. 

"  Dish  ish  de  all  confoundedesht,  meanesht,  mosht 
dishgusting  road  for  a  dark  night  the  prince  of  darkness 
himself  ever  inwented ! "  he  exclaimed,  speaking  un- 
usually thick  in  his  heat  and  excitement.  "  I  shouldn't 


240       THE   MEN    WITH   THE   DARK  LA 2;' TERN. 

be  wery  much  surprised  if  I  vas  a  leetle  out  of  tht  >ight 
vay.  You  shtay  right  here  till  I  look." 

She  sat  down  and  waited.  Intense  darknes^  sur- 
rounded her;  not  a  star  was  visible;  she  could  not  see 
her  own  hand.  For  a  little  while  Carl's  footsteps  could 
be  heard  feeling  for  more  familiar  ground ;  and  then,  oc- 
casionally, the  crackling  of  a  dry  twig,  as  he  trod  upon  it, 
showed  that  he  was  not  far  off.  Then  he  whistled ;  then 
he  softly  called,  "  Hello  !  "  in  the  woods  ;  moving  all  the 
time  farther  and  farther  away. 

Carl  believed  that  Perm  could  not  be  far  distant,  and, 
in  order  to  get  an  answering  signal,  he  kept  whistling 
and  calling  louder  and  louder.  At  length  came  a  response 
—  a  low  warning  whistle.  So  he  plodded  on,  and  had 
nearly  reached  the  spot  where  he  was  confident  Penn 
was  searching  for  him,  when  there  came  a  rush  of  feet, 
and  he  was  suddenly  and  violently  seized  by  invisible 
assailants. 

"  Got  him  ?  " 

"Yes!  all  right!" 

"  Hang  on  to  him !  It's  the  Dutchman,  ain't  it  ?  I 
thought  I  knew  the  brogue  !  " 

The  last  speaker  was  Lieutenant  Silas  Ropes ;  and  Carl 
perceived  that  he  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  squad  of 
confederate  soldiers.  That  he  was  vastly  astonished  and 
altogether  disconcerted  at  first,  we  may  well  suppose. 
But  Carl  was  not  a  lad  to  remain  long  bereft  of  his  wit? 
when  they  were  so  necessary  to  him. 


THE   MEN    WITH   THE   DARK   LANTERN.       241 

"  Ho  !  vot  for  you  choke  a  fellow  so  ?  "  he  indignantly 
demanded.  "  I  vas  treated  petter  as  that  ven  I  vas  a 
prisoner." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  you  d — d  deserter  ?  " 

"  Haven't  I  just  got  avay  from  Stackridge  ?  and  vasn't 
I  running  to  find  you  as  vast  as  ever  a  vellow  could  ?  And 
now  you  call  me  a  deserter  !  "  retorted  Carl,  aggrieved. 

"  Running  to  find  us  !  " 

"  To  be  sure  !  Didn't  I  say,  '  Is  it  you  ? '  For  they 
said  you  vas  on  the  mountain.  Though  I  did  not  think  I 
should  find  you  so  easy !  "  which  was  indeed  the  truth. 

Carl  persisted  so  earnestly  in  regarding  the  affair  from 
this  point  of  view,  that  his  captors  began  to  think  it 
worth  while  to  question  him. 

"  Vun  of  them  vellows  just  says  to  me,  he  says, 
'  Shpeak  vun  vord,  or  make  vun  noise,  and  I  vill  plow 
your  prains  out !  '  I  vasn't  wery  much  in  favor  to  have 
my  prains  plowed  out,  so  I  complied  mit  his  wery  urgent 
request.  That's  the  vay  they  took  me  prisoner." 

"  Wai,"  remarked  Silas,  "  what  he  says  may  be  true, 
but  I  don't  believe  nary  word  on't.  Got  his  hands  tied  ? 
Now  lock  arms  with  him,  and  bring  him  along." 

Carl  was  in  despair  at  this  mode  of  treatment,  for  it 
rendered  escape  impossible,  —  and  what  would  become  of 
Virginia  ?  His  anxiety  for  her  safety  became  absolute 
terror  when  he  discovered  the  errand  on  which  these  men 
were  bound. 

By  the  light  of  a  dark  lantern  they  led  him  through 
21 


242     THE  ^fEy  WITH  THE  DARK  LANTERN. 

the  grove,  across  a  brook  that  came  tumbling  down  out 
of  a  wild  black  gorge,  and  up  the  mountain  slope  into 
the  edge  of  ihe  great  forest  above.  Here  they  stopped. 

"  This  yer's  a  good  place,  boys,  to  begin.  Kick  the 
leaves  together.  That's  the  talk." 

They  were  in  a  leafy  hollow  of  the  dry  woods.  A 
blaze  was  soon  kindled,  which  shot  up  in  the  darkness, 
and  threw  its  ruddy  glare  upon  the  trunks  and  over- 
hanging canopy  of  foliage,  and  upon  the  malignant, 
gleaming  faces  of  the  soldiers.  Little  effort  was  needed 
to  insure  the  spreading  of  the  flames.  They  ran  over  the 
ground,  licking  up  the  dry  leaves,  crackling  the  twigs, 
catching  at  the  bark  of  trees,  and  filling  the  forest,  late 
so  silent  and  black,  with  their  glow  and  roar. 

"  That's  to  smoke  out  your  d — d  Union  friends  !  "  said 
Silas  to  Carl,  with  a  hideous  grin. 

Yes,  Carl  understood  that  well  enough.  In  this  same  for- 
est, on  the  banks  of  the  brook  above  where  it  fell  into  the 
gorge,  the  patriots  were  encamped.  And  Virginia  ?  Still 
believing  that  the  worst  that  could  happen  to  her  would 
be  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  these  ruffians,  the  lad  sweated 
in  silent  agony  over  the  secret  he  was  bound  to  keep. 

"  What  makes  ye  look  so  down-in-the-mouth,  Dutchy  ? 
Fraid  your  friends  will  get  scorched  ?  " 

"  I  vas  thinking  the  fire  vill  be  apt  to  scorch  us  as 
much  as  it  vill  them.  And  I  have  my  hands  tied  so  I 
can't  run." 

"  Don't  be  afraid ;   we'll  look  out  for  you.     I   swear, 


TBE   It  UN    WITH   ?HK  DARK   LANTERN.       248 

boys !  the  fire  looks  as  though  'twas  dying  down !  Get 
out  o'  this  yer  holler  and  there  ain't  no  leaves  to  feed  it ; 
and  I  be  hanged  if  the  wind  ain't  gitting  contrary  ! " 

Carl  witnessed  these  effects  with  a  gleam  of  hope. 
The  soldiers  fell  to  gathering  bark  and  sticks,  which  they 
piled  at  the  roots  of  trees.  The  lad  was  left  almost  alone. 
Had  his  hands  been  free,  he  would  have  run.  A  soldier 
passed  near  him,  dragging  a  dead  bush. 

"  Dan  Pepperill !  cut  the  cord  !  "  Dan  shook  his  head, 
with  a  look  of  terror.  "  Drop  your  knife,  then  !  " 

"  O  Lord  !  "  said  Dan.  "  They'd  hang  me  !  I  be 
durned  if  they  wouldn't !  " 

"Dan,  you  must!  I  don't  care  vim  cent  for  myself. 
But  Wirginie  Willars  —  she  is  just  beyond  vere  you  took 
me.  Yill  you  leave  her  to  die  ?  And  Mishter  Hapgoot 
is  just  a  little  vay  up  the  mountain,  and  there  is  nopody 
to  let  him  know  !  " 

A  look  of  ghastly  intelligence  came  into  Dan's  face  as 
he  stopped  to  listen  to  this  explanation.  He  seemed  half 
inclined  to  set  the  boy's  limbs  free,  and  risk  the  conse- 
quences. But  just  then  Kopss  shouted  at  him,  — 

"  What  ye  at  thar,  Pepperill  ?  Why  don't  ye  bring 
along  that  ar  brush  ?  " 

So  the  brief  conference  ended,  and  the  cords  remained 
uncut.  And  a  great,  dangerous  fire  was  kindling  in  the 
woods.  And  now  Carl's  only  hope  for  Virginia  was,  that 
she  would  take  advantage  of  its  light  to  make  good  her 
retreat  from  the  mountain. 


244  BEAUTY  AND    TH£   BEAST. 


XXVIII. 


BEAUTY  AND    THE   BEAST. 


NFORTUNATELY  the  poor  girl  had  no 
suspicion  of  the  mischance  that  had  overta- 
ken her  guide.  She  heard  voices,  and  believed 
that  he  had  fallen  in  with  some  friends.  Thus  she  waited, 
expecting  momently  that  he  would  return  to  her.  She 
saw  a  single  gleam  of  light  that  vanished  in  the  darkness. 
Then  the  voices  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  and  at  length 
died  in  the  distance.  And  she  was  once  more  utterly 
alone. 

Fearful  doubt  and  uncertainty  agitated  her.  In  a 
moment  of  despair,  yielding  to  the  terrors  of  her  situation, 
she  wrung  her  hands  and  called  on  Carl  imploringly  not  to 
abandon  her,  but  to  come  back  —  "  O,  dear,  dear  Carl, 
come  back !  " 

Suddenly  she  checked  herself.  Why  was  she  sitting 
there,  wasting  the  time  in  tears  and  reproaches  ? 

"  Poor  Carl  never  meant  to  desert  me  in  this  way,  I 
know.  If  I  ever  see  him  again,  he  will  make  me  sorry 


BEAUTY   AND    THE    BEAST.  245 

that  I  have  blamed  him.  No  doubt  he  has  done  his  best. 
But,  whatever  has  become  of  him,  I  am  sure  he  cannot 
find  his  way  back  to  me  now.  I'll  follow  him ;  perhaps 
I  may  find  him,  or  Penn,  or  some  of  their  friends.'' 

She  arose  accordingly,  and  groped  her  way  in  the 
direction  in  which  she  had  seen  the  light  and  heard  the 
voices.  And  soon  another  and  very  different  light  glad- 
dened her  eyes  —  a  faint  glow,  far  off,  as  of  a  fire  kindled 
among  the  forest  trees.  It  was  the  camp  of  the  patriots, 
she  thought. 

She  came  to  the  brook,  which,  invisible,  mysterious, 
murmuring,  rolled  along  in  the  midnight  blackness,  and 
seemed  tco  formidable  for  her  to  ford.  She  felt  the  cold 
rush  of  the  hurrying  water,  the  slippery  slime  of  the 
mossy  and  treacherous  stones,  and  withdrew  her  appalled 
hands.  To  find  a  shallow  place  to  cross,  she  followed  up 
the  bank  :  and  as  the  light  was  still  before  her,  higher  on 
the  mountain,  she  kept  on,  groping  among  trees,  climbing 
over  logs  and  rocks,  falling  often,  but  always  resolutely 
rising  again,  until,  to  her  dismay,  the  glow  began  to  dis- 
appear. She  had,  without  knowing  it,  followed  the 
stream  up  into  the  deep  gorge  through  which  it  poured ; 
and  now  the  precipitous  wood-crowned  wall,  rising  beside 
her,  overhanging  her,  shut  out  the  last  glimpse  of  the  fire. 

She  v,-as  by  this  time  exceedingly  fatigued.  It  seemed 
useless  to  advance  farther  ;  she  felt  certain  that  she  was 
only  getting  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  entangling  diffi- 
culties of  that  unknown,  horrible  place.  Neither  had  she 
21* 


246  BEAUTY  AST)    THE    BEAST. 

the  courage  or  strength  to  retrace  her  steps.  Nothing 
then  remained  for  her  but  to  pass  the  remainder  of  the 
night  where  she  was,  and  wait  patiently  for  the  morning. 

Little  knowing  that  the  light  she  had  seen  was  the 
glare  of  the  kindled  forest,  she  endeavored  to  convince 
herself  that  she  had  nothing  to  fear.  At  all  events,  she 
knew  that  trembling  and  tears  could  avail  her  nothing. 
She  had  not  ventured  to  call  very  loudly  for  help,  fearing 
lest  her  voice  might  bring  foe  instead  of  friend.  And 
now  it  occurred  to  her  that  perhaps  Carl  had  been  taken 
by  the  soldiers  :  yes,  it  must  be  so  :  she  explained  it  all  to 
herself,  and  wondered  why  she  had  not  thought  of  it  before. 
It  would  therefore  be  folly  in  her  now  to  scream  for  aid. 

Comfortless,  yet  calm,  she  explored  the  ground  for  a 
resting-place.  She  cleared  the  twigs  away  from  the  roots 
of  a  tree,  and  laid  herself  down  there  on  the  moss  and 
old  leaves.  Everything  seemed  dank  with  the  never- 
failing  dews  of  the  deep  and  sheltered  gorge  ;  but  she 
did  not  mind  the  dampness  of  her  couch.  A  strong 
wind  was  rising,  and  the  great  trees  above  her  swayed 
and  moaned.  She  was  vexed  by  mosquitoes  that  bit  as 
if  they  then  for  the  first  time  tasted  blood,  and  never 
expected  to  taste  it  again ;  but  she  was  too  weary  to 
care  much  for  them  either.  She  rested  her  arm  on  the 
mossy  root ;  she  rested  her  head  on  her  arm ;  she  drew 
her  handkerchief  over  her  face  ;  she  shut  out  from  her 
soul  all  the  miseries  and  dangers  of  her  situation,  and 
quietly  said  her  prayers. 


BEAUTY  AXD    THE   BEAST.  247 

There  is  nothing  that  calms  the  perturbations  of  the 
mind  like  that  inward  looking  for  the  light  of  God's  peace 
which  descends  upon  us  when  in  silence  and  sweet  trust 
we  pray  to  him.  A  delicious  sense  of  repose  ensued, 
and  her  thoughts  floated  off  in  dreams. 

She  dreamed  she  was  flying  with  her  father  from  the 
fury  of  armed  men.  She  led  him  into  a  wilderness ;  and 
it  was  night ;  and  great  rocks  rose  up  suddenly  before 
them  in  the  gloom,  and  awful  chasms  yawned.  Then  she 
was  wandering  alone ;  she  had  lost  her  father,  and  was 
seeking  him  up  and  down.  Then  it  seemed  that  Penn 
was  by  her  side ;  and  when  she  asked  for  her  father  he 
smilingly  pointed  upward  at  a  wondrously  beautiful  light 
that  shone  from  the  summit  of  a  hill.  She  sought  to  go 
up  thither,  but  grew  weary,  and  sat  down  to  rest  in  a 
deep  grove,  with  an  ice-cold  mountain  stream  dashing  at 
her  feet.  Then  the  light  on  the  hill  became  a  lake  of  fire, 
and  it  poured  its  waves  into  the  stream,  and  the  stream 
flowed  past  her  a  roaring  river  of  flame.  Lightnings 
crackled  in  the  air  above  her.  Thunderbolts  fell.  The 
heat  was  intolerable.  The  river  had  overflowed,  and  set 
the  world  on  fire.  And  she  could  not  fly,  for  terror 
chained  her  limbs.  She  struggled,  screamed,  awoke.  She 
started  up.  Her  dream  was  a  reality. 

Either  the  fire  set  by  the  soldiers  had  spread,  driven 
by  the  wind  over  the  dry  leaves,  into  the  grove  below 
her,  or  else  they  had  fired  the  grove  itself  on  their 
retreat.  Her  eyes  opened  upon  a  vision  of  appalling 


248  BEAUTY  A^'D    THE   BEAST 

brightness.  For  a  moment  she  stood  utterly  dazzled  and 
bewildered,  not  knowing  where  she  was.  Memory  and 
reason  were  paralyzed  :  she  could  not  remember,  she  could 
not  think :  amazement  and  terror  possessed  her. 

Instinctively  shielding  her  eyes,  she  looked  down.  Tho 
ground  where  she  had  lain,  the  log,  the  sticks,  the  moss, 
and  her  handkerchief  fallen  upon  it,  were  illumined  with 
a  glare  brighter  than  noonday.  At  sight  of  the  handker- 
chief came  recollection.  Her  terrible  adventure,  the  glow 
she  had  seen  in  the  woods,  her  bed  on  the  earth,  —  she 
remembered  everything.  And  now  the  actual  perils  of 
her  position  became  apparent  to  her  returning  faculties. 

Where  all  was  blackness  when  she  lay  down,  now  all 
was  preternatural  light.  Every  bush  and  jutting  rock  of 
the  wild  overhanging  cliffs  stood  out  in  fearful  distinct- 
ness. The  saplings  and  trees  on  their  summits,  fifty  feet 
above  her  head,  seemed  huddling  together,  and  leaning 
forward  terror-stricken,  in  an  atmosphere  of  whirling 
flame  and  smoke.  Climb  those  cliffs  she  could  not, 
though  she  were  to  die. 

She  must  then  flee  farther  up  into  the  deep  and  narrow 
gorge,  or  endeavor  to  escape  by  the  way  she  had  come. 
But  the  way  she  had  come  was  fire. 

The  conflagration  already  enveloped  the  mouth  of  the 
gorge,  shutting  her  in.  The  trunks  of  near  trees  stood 
like  the  bars  of  a  stupendous  cage,  through  which  she 
looked  at  the  raering  demons  beyond.  Burning  limbs 
fell,  shooting  through  the  air  with  trails  of  flame 


BEAUTY  AXD    THE   BEAST.  249 

Every  tree  was  a  pillar  of  fire.  Here  a  bough,  still  un- 
touched, hung,  dark  and  impassive,  against  the  lurid,  sur- 
ging chaos.  Then  the  whirlwind  of  heated  air  struck  it, 
and  you  could  see  it  writhe  and  twist,  until  its  darkness 
burst  into  flame.  There  stood  what  was  late  a  lordly  maple, 
but  now,  —  trunk,  and  limb,  and  branch,  —  a  tree  of 
living  coal.  And  down  under  this  gulf  of  fire  flowed  the 
brook,  into  which  showers  of  sparks  fell  hissing,  while 
over  all,  fearfully  illumined  clouds  of  smoke  and  cinders 
and  leaves  went  rolling  up  into  the  sky. 

Virginia  approached  near  enough  to  be  impressed  with 
the  dreadful  certainty  that  there  was  no  outlet  whatever, 
for  any  mortal  foot,  in  that  direction.  Tortured  by  the 
heat,  and  pursued  by  lighted  twigs,  that  fell  like  fiery 
darts  around  her,  she  fled  back  into  the  gorge. 

The  conflagration  was  still  spreading  rapidly.  The  tim- 
ber along  both  sides  of  the  gorge,  at  its  opening,  began 
to  burn  upwards  towards  the  summits  of  the  clifls.  Soon 
the  very  spot  where  she  had  slept,  and  where  she  now 
paused  once  more  in  her  terrible  perplexity  and  fear, 
\vould  be  an  abyss  of  flame. 

Again  she  took  to  flight,  hasting  along  the  edge  of 
the  stream,  up  into  the  heart  of  the  gorge.  Over  roots 
of  trees,  over  old  decaying  trunks,  over  barricades  of  dead 
limbs  brought  down  by  freshets  and  left  lodged,  she 
climbed,  she  sprang,  she  ran.  All  too  brightly  her  way 
was  lighted  now.  A  ghastly  yellow  radiance  was  on 
every  object.  The  waters  sparkled  and  gleamed  as  they 


250  BtAUTY  AXD    TBE   BEAST. 

poured  over  the  dark  brown  stones.  Every  slender,  deli- 
cate fern,  every  poor  little  startled  wild  flower  nestled  in 
cool,  dim  nooks,  was  glaringly  revealed.  Little  the 
frightened  girl  heeded  these  darlings  of  the  forest  now. 

All  the  way  she  looked  eagerly  for  some  slant  or  cleft  in 
the  mountain  walls  where  she  might  hope  to  ascend. 
Here,  over  the  accumulated  soil  of  centuries,  fastened  by 
interwoven  roots  to  the  base  of  the  cliff,  she  might  have 
climbed  a  dozen  feet  or  more.  Yonder,  by  the  aid  of 
shrubs  and  boughs,  she  might  have  drawn  herself  up  a 
few  feet  farther.  But,  wherever  her  eye  ranged  along  the 
ledges  above,  she  beheld  them  dizzy-steep  and  unsca- 
lable. And  so  she  kept  on  until  even  the  way  before  her 
was  closed  up. 

On  the  brink  of  a  rock-rimmed,  flashing  basin  she 
stopped.  Down  into  this,  from  a  shelf  twenty  feet 
in  height,  fell  the  brook  in  a  bright,  fire-tinted  cascade. 
Fear-inspired  as  she  was,  she  could  not  but  pause 
and  wonder  at  the  strange  beauty  of  the  scene,  —  the 
plashy  pool  before  her,  the  flame-color  on  the  veil  of 
silver  foam  dropped  from  the  brow  of  the  ledge,  and  — 
for  a  wild  background  to  the  picture — the  wooded,  fire-lit, 
shadowy  gorge,  opening  on  a  higher  level  above. 

During  the  moment  that  she  stood  there,  a  great  bird, 
like  an  owl,  that  had  probably  been  driven  from  his  hol- 
low tree  or  fissure  in  the  rocks  by  the  conflagration, 
flapped  past  her  face,  almost  touching  her  with  his  wings, 
and  dashed  blindly  against  the  waterfall.  He  was  swept 


BEAUTY  AND    THE    BEAST.  251 

down  into  the  pool.  After  some  violent  fluttering  and 
floundering  in  the  water,  he  extricated  himself,  perched 
on  a  stone  at  its  edge,  shook  out  his  wet  feathers,  and 
stared  at  her  with  large  cat-like  eyes,  without  fear.  She 
was  near  enough  to  reach  him  with  her  hand  ;  but  either 
he  was  so  dazzled  and  stunned  that  he  took  no  notice  of 
her,  or  else  the  greater  terror  had  rendered  him  tame  to 
human  approach.  She  believed  the  latter  was  the  case, 
and  saw  something  exceedingly  awful  in  the  incident. 
When  even  the  wild  winged  creatures  of  the  forest  were 
stricken  dov.  n  with  fear,  what  cause  had  she  to  apprehend 
danger  to  herself ! 

On  reaching  the  waterfall  she  had  felt  for  a  moment 
that  all  was  over — that  certain  death  awaited  her.  Then, 
out  of  her  very  despair,  came  a  gleam  of  hope.  She 
might  creep  under  the  cascade,  or  behind  it,  and  that 
would  protect  her.  But  when  she  looked  up,  and  saw, 
around  and  above  her,  the  forest  trees  with  the  frightful 
and  ever-increasing  glow  upon  them,  and  knew  that  they 
too  soon  must  kindle,  and  thought  of  firebrands  rained 
down  upon  her,  and  falling  columns  of  fire  filling  the  gorge 
with  burning  rubbish,  —  then  her  soul  sickened  :  what 
protection  would  a  little  sheet  of  water  prove  against  such 
furnace  heat  ? 

No  :  she  must  escape,  or  perish.  Beside  the  cascade 
there  was  a  broken  angle  of  the  rocks,  by  which,  if  she 
could  reach  it,  she  might  at  least,  she  thought,  climb 
to  the  upper  part  of  the  gorge.  But  the  nearest  foothold 


252  BEAUTY  AND    THE   BEAST. 

she  could  discover  was  ten  feet  above  the  basin,  in  shee? 
ascent.  The  ledge  was  dank  and  slippery  with  the  dash- 
ing spray.  Gain  the  top  of  it,  however,  she  must.  She  ran 
up  the  embankment  under  the  cliff.  Here  a  sapling  gave 
*ier  support ;  she  clung  to  a  crevice  or  projection  there  ;  a 
Irooping  bough  saved  her  from  falling  when  the  soft  earth 
slid  from  beneath  hsr  feet  farther  on.  So  she  climb  _\1 
along  the  side  of  the  precipice,  until  the  broken  corner 
of  the  cliff  was  hardly  two  yards  off  before  her.  Yes,  a 
secure  foothold  was  there,  and  above  it  rose  irregular 
pointed  stairs,  leading  steeply  to  the  top  of  the  cascade. 
O,  to  reach  that  shattered  ledge  !  A  space  of  perpendicu- 
lar wall  intervened.  No  shrub,  no  drooping  bough,  was 
there.  Here  was  only  a  slight  projection,  just  enough  to 
rest  the  edge  of  a  foot  upon.  She  placed  her  foot  upon 
it.  She  found  a  crevice  above,  and  thrust  her  fingers  into 
it  as  if  there  was  no  such  thing  as  pain.  She  clung,  she 
took  a  step  —  she  was  half  a  yard  nvarer  the  angle. 
But  what  next  could  she  do  ?  She  was  hanging  in  the 
air  above  the  basin,  into  which  the  slightest  slip  would 
precipitate  her.  To  change  hands  —  relieve  the  one 
advanced  and  insert  the  fingers  of  the  other  in  its  place, 
--was  a  perilous  undertaking.  But  she  did  it.  Then 
she  reached  forward  again  with  hand  and  foot,  found  an- 
other spot  to  cling  to,  and  took  another  step.  She  was 
thankful  for  the  great  light  that  lighted  tho  rocks  before 
her.  Close  by  now  was  the  fractured  angle  of  the  cliff: 
one  more  step,  and  she  could  set  her  foot  upon  the  iieth 


BEAUTY  A NJL>    THIS  JS£AST.  253 

ermost  stair.  Her  strength  was  almost  gone  ;  her  hands, 
though  insensible  to  pain,  were  conscious  of  slipping.  To 
fall  would  be  to  lose  all  she  had  gained,  and  all  the 
strength  she  had  exhausted  in  the  effort.  Her  feet  now — • 
or  rather  one  of  them — had  a  tolerably  secure  hold  on  the 
rib  of  the  ledge.  She  made  one  last  effort  with  her 
hands,  and,  just  as  she  was  falling,  gave  a  spring.  She 
knew  that  all  was  staked  upon  that  one  dizzy  instant  of 
time.  But  for  that  knowledge  she  could  never  have 
accomplished  what  she  did.  She  fell  forwards  towards 
the  angle,  caught  a  point  of  the  rock  with  her  hands,  and 
clung  there  until  she  had  safely  placed  her  feot. 

This  done,  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  stop  a  moment 
to  rest.  She  looked  downwards  and  behind  her,  to  see 
what  she  had  done.  The  sight  made  her  dizzy  —  it 
seemed  such  a  miracle  that  she  could  ever  have  scaled 
that  wall ! 

Nearer  and  louder  roared  the  conflagration,  and  she  had 
little  time  to  delay.  Her  labor  was  not  ended,  neither 
was  the  danger  past.  She  cast  a  hurried  glance  upwards 
over  the  ridge  she  was  to  climb,  and  advanced  cautiously, 
step  by  step.  Her  soul  kept  saying  within  her,  "  I  will 
not  fall ;  I  will  not  fall ; "  but  she  dared  not  look  back- 
wards again,  lest  even  then  she  should  grow  giddy  and 
miss  her  hold. 

As  she  ascended,  the  ridge  inclined  nearer  and  nearer  to 
the  side  of  the  cascade,  until  she  found  the  stones  slimy 
and  dripping.  This  was  an  unforeseen  peril.  Still  she 
22 


254  BEAUTY   AND    THE    BF.AS'i. 

resolutely  advanced,  taking  the  utmost  precaution  at  each 
step  against  slipping.  At  length  she  -was  at  the  top  of 
the  -waterfall.  She  could  look  up  into  the  upper  gorge, 
and  see  the  water  come  rushing  down.  There  was  space 
beside  the  brook  for  her  to  continue  her  flight  :  and  the 
sides  of  the  gorge  above  were  far  less  steep  and  rugged 
than  below.  She  was  thrilled  with  hope.  She  had  but 
one  steep,  high  stair  to  surmount.  She  was  getting  her 
knee  upon  it,  when  a  crashing  sound  in  the  underbrush 
arrested  her  attention.  The  crashing  was  followed  by  a 
commotion  in  the  water,  and  she  saw  a  huge  black  object 
plunge  into  the  stream,  and  come  sweeping  down  to- 
wards her. 

On  it  came,  straight  at  the  rock  on  which  she  clung, 
and  from  which  a  motion,  a  touch,  might '  suffice  to  hurl 
her  back  into  the  lower  gorge.  She  saw  what  it  was; 
and  for  a  moment  she  was  frozen  with  terror.  She  was 
directly  in  its  path  :  it  would  not  stop  for  her.  The  sight 
of  the  blazing  woods  below,  however,  brought  it  to  a 
sudden  halt.  And  there,  close  by  the  brink  of  the  water- 
fall, facing  her,  not  a  yard  distant,  in  the  full  glare  of  the 
lire,  it  rose  slowly  on  its  hind  feet  to  look  —  a  monster 
of  the  forest,  an  immense  black  bear. 

And  now,  but  for  the  nightmare  of  horror  that  was 
upon  her,  Virginia  might  have  perceived  that  the  forest 
abcve  the  cascade  was  likewise  wrapped  in  flames.  The 
bear  had  been  driven  by  the  terror  of  them  down  the 
stream  ;  and  here,  between  the  two  fires,  on  the  verge  of 


BEAUTY   AND    THE    BEAST.  255 

the  waterfall,  the  slight  young  girl  and  the  great  shaggy 
wild  beast  had  met.  She  would  have  shrieked,  but  she 
had  no  voice.  The  bear  also  was  silent ;  with  his  huge 
hairy  bulk  reared  up  before  her,  his  paws  pendant,  and 
his  jaws  half  open  in  a  sort  of  stupid  amazement,  he  stood 
and  gazed,  uttering  never  a  growl. 


258  IN   THE  BURNING    WOOL,  It, 


XXIX. 


IN  THE  BURNING    WOODS. 


H  E  incessant  excitement  and  fatigue  of  the 
past  few  days  had  caused  Penn  to  fall  asleep 

almost  immediately  after  Carl  left  him.  The 
rude  ground  on  which  he  stretched  himself  proved  a  bliss- 
ful couch  of  repose.  Virginia  climbed  the '  mountain  to 
meet  him,  and  no  fine  intuitive  sense  of  her  approach 
thrilled  him  with  wakeful  expectancy.  Carl  was  captured, 
and  still  he  slept.  The  lost  young  girl  wandered  within 
fifty  yards  of  where  he  lay  steeped  in  forgetfulness,  dream- 
ing, perhaps,  of  her  ;  and  all  the  time  they  were  as  uncon- 
scious of  each  other's  presence  as  were  Evangeline  and 
her  lover  when  they  passed  each  other  at  night  on  the 
great  river. 

Penn  was  the  first  to  wake ;  and  still  his  stupid  heart 
whispered  to  him  no  syllable  of  the  strange  secret  of  the 
beautiful  sleeper  whom  he  might  have  looked  down  upon 
from  the  edge  of  the  cliff  so  near. 

The  grove  had  been  but  recently  fired,  and  it  wouW 


IN    THE   BURNING    WOODS.  257 

have  been  easy  enough  thon  for  him  to  rush  into  the  gorge 
and  rescue  her.  From  what  terrors,  from  what  perils 
would  she  have  been  saved  !  But  he  wasted  the  precious 
moments  in  staring  amazement ;  then,  thinking  of  his  own 
safety,  he  commenced  running  away  from  her,  —  his  escape 
lighted  by  the  same  fatal  flames  that  were  enclosing  her 
within  the  gorge. 

She  never  knew  whether,  on  aAvaking,  she  cried  for 
help  or  remained  dumb  ;  nor  did  it  matter  much  then  :  he 
was  already  too  far  off  to  hear. 

The  glow  on  the  clouds  lighted  all  the  broad  mountain 
side.  Under  the  ruddy  canopy  he  ran,  —  now  through 
dimly  illumined  woods,  and  now  over  bare  rocks  faintly 
flushed  by  the  glare  of  the  sky. 

As  he  drew  near  the  cave,  he  saw,  on  a  rock  high  above 
him,  a  wild  human  figure  making  fantastic  gestures,  and 
prostrating  itself  towards  the  burning  forests.  He  ran  up 
to  it,  and,  all  out  of  breath,  stood  on  the  ledge. 

"  Cudjo  !   Cudjo  !  what  are  you  doing  here  ?" 

The  negro  made  no  reply,  but,  folding  his  arms  above 
his  head,  spread  them  forth  towards  the  fire,  bowing  him 
self  again  and  again,  until  his  forehead  touched  the  stone. 

Penn  shuddered  with  awe.  For  the  first  time  in  his 
"life  he  found  himself  in  the  presence  of  an  idolater.  Cudjo 
belonged  to  a  tribe  of  African  fire-worshippers,  from  whom 
he  had  been  stolen  in  his  youth ;  and,  although  the  sen- 
timent of  the  old  barbarous  religion  had  smouldered  for 
years  forgotten  in  his  breast,  this  night  it  had  burst  forth 
22* 


258  IN   THE  BURNING    WOODS. 

again,  kindled  by  the  terrible  splendors  of  the  burning 
mountain. 

Perm  waited  for  him  to  rise,  then  grasped  his  arm. 
The  negro,  startled  into  a  consciousness  of  his  presence, 
stared  at  him  wildly. 

"  That  is  not  God,  Cudjo  !  " 

"  No,  no,  not  your  God,  massa  !  My  God  ! "  and  the 
African  smote  his  breast.  "  Me  mos'  forgit  him  ;  nov/  me 
'members !  Him  comin'  fur  burn  up  de  white  folks,  and 
set  de  brack  man  free  !  " 

Penn  stood  silent,  thinking  the  negro  might  not  be 
altogether  wrong.  No  doubt  the  dim,  dark  soul  of  him 
saw  vaguely,  with  that  prophetic  sense  which  is  in  all 
races  of  men,  a  great  truth.  A  fire  was  indeed  coming — 
was  already  kindled  —  which  was  to  set  the  bondman 
free  :  and  God  was  in  the  fire.  But  of  that  mightier  con- 
flagration, the  combustion  of  the  forests  was  but  a  feeble 
type. 

Penn  turned  from  Cudjo  to  watch  the  burning,  and 
became  aware  of  its  threatening  and  rapidly  increasing 
magnitude.  The  woods  had  been  set  in  several  places, 
but  the  different  fires  were  fast  growing  into  one,  swept  by 
a  strong  wind  diagonally  across  and  up  the  mountain.  It 
seemed  then  as  if  nothing  could  prevent  all  the  forest 
growths  that  lay  to  the  southward  and  westward  along  the 
range  from  being  consumed. 

As  he  gazed,  he  became  extremely  alarmed  for  the 
of  Stackridge  and  his  friends  :  and  where  all  thi« 


IN    THE   BURNING    WOODS.  259 

time  was  Carl  ?  In  vain  he  questioned  Cudjo.  He 
turned,  and  was  hastening  to  the  cave  when  he  met  Pomp 
coming  towards  him.  Tall,  majestic,  naked  to  the  waist, 
wearing  a  garment  of  panther-skins,  with  the  red  gleam  of 
the  fire  on  his  dusky  face  and  limbs,  the  negro  looked  like 
a  native  monarch  of  the  hills. 

"  O  Pomp  !  what  a  fire  that  is  !  " 

"  What  a  fire  it  is  going  to  be  !  "  answered  Pomp,  with 
a  lurid  smile.  "  Our  new  neighbors  have  brought  us  bad 
luck.  All  those  woods  are  gone.  The  fire  is  sweeping  up 
directly  towards  us  —  it  will  pass  over  all  the  mountain  — 
nothing  will  be  left."  Yet  he  spoke  with  a  lofty  calmness 
that  astonished  Penn. 

"And  our  friends!  —  Carl! — have  you  heard  from 
them  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  seen  Carl  since  he  left  the  cave  with  you, 
nor  any  of  Stackridge's  people  to-night." 

"  Then  they  are  in  the  Avoods  yet !  " 

"  Yes  ;  unless  they  have  been  wise  enough  to  get  out 
of  them  !  I  was  just  starting  out  to  look  for  them.  — 
Who  comes  there  ?  "  —  poising  bis  rifle. 

"  It's  Carl !  "  exclaimed  Penn,  recognizing  the  confed- 
erate coat.  But  in  an  instant  he  saw  his  mistake. 

"  It  is  one  of  Ropes's  men  !  "  said  Pomp.  "  He  has 
discovered  us  —  he  shall  die  for  setting  my  mountains  on 
fire  !  " 

"  Hold  !  "  Penn  grasped  his  arm.  "  He  is  beckoning 
and  calling  !  " 


*2QQ  IN    THE    BURNING    WOODS. 

Pomp  frowned  as  he  lowered  his  rifle,  and  waited  for 
the  soldier  to  come  up. 

"  What !  is  it  you  ?  I  didn't  know  you  in  that  dress, 
and  came  near  shooting  you,  as  you  deserve,  for  wearing 
it !  "  And  Pomp  turned  scornfully  away. 

The  comer  was  Dan  Pepperill,  breathless  with  haste, 
horror-struck,  haggard.  It  was  some  time  before  he 
could  reply  to  Penn's  impetuous  demand  —  what  had 
brought  him  up  thither  ? 

"  Carl  !  "  he  gasped. 

"  What  has  happened  to  Carl  ?  " 

"  Ben  tuck  !  durned  if  he  hain't !  But  that  ar  ain't  the 
wust !  " 

"  What,  then,  is  the  worst  ? "  for  that  seemed  bad 
enough. 

"  Virginny  —  Miss  Villars  !  " 

"  Virginia  !  what  of  her  ?  " 

"  She's  down  thar  !  in  the  fire  !" 

"  Virginia  in  the  fire  !  " 

"  She  ar,  —  durned  if  she  ain't !  Carl  said  she  war  on 
the  mountain,  and  wanted  me  to  hurry  up  and  help  her  or 
find  you  ;  and  I'd  a  done  it,  but  I  couldn't  git  off  till  we 
was  runnin'  from  the  fires  we'd  sot;  then  I  kinder  got 
scattered  a  puppus  ;  t'other  ones  hung  on  to  Carl,  though, 
so  I  had  to  come  alone." 

Penn  interrupted  the  loose  and  confused  narrative  — 
Virginia  :  had  he  seen  her  ? 

"  Wai,  I  reckon  I  hev  !  Ye  see  I  war  huntin'  fur  he/ 
thar,  above  the  round  rock ;  fur  Carl  said, 


IN    THE   BURNING    WOODS.  261 

A  short,  sharp  groan  broke  from  the  lips  of  Penn.  At 
first  the  idea  of  Virginia  being  on  the  mountain  had 
appeared  to  him  incredible.  But  at  the  mention  of  the 
place  of  rendezvous  the  truth  smote  him  :  she  had  come  up 
there  with  Toby,  or  in  his  stead.  With  spasmodic  grip 
he  wrung  Pepperill's  arm  as  if  he  would  have  wrung  the 
truth  out  of  him  that  way. 

"  You  saw  her  !  — where  ?  " 

His  hoarse  voice,  his  terrible  look,  bewildered  the  poor 
man  more  and  more. 

"  I  war  a  tellin'  ye  !  Don't  break  my  arm,  and  don't 
look  so  durned  f 'erce  at  me,  and  I'll  out  with  the  hull 
story.  Ye  see,  I  warn't  to  blame,  now,  no  how.  They 
sot  the  fires  ;  they  sot  the  grove  on  our  way  back  ; 
and  if  I  helped  any,  'twas  cause  I  had  ter.  But  about 
her.  Wai,  I  begun  to  the  big  rock,  and  war  a  huntin' 
up  along,  till  the  grove  got  all  in  a  blaze,  and  the  red 
limbs  begun  ter  fall,  and  I  see  'twas  high  time  for  me  to 
put.  Says  I  ter  myself,  '  She  hain't  hyar  ;  she  ar  off  the 
mountain  and  safe  ter  hum  afore  this  time,  shore  ! '  But 
jest  then  I  heern  a  screech ;  it  sounded  right  inter  the 
grove,  and  I  run  up  as  clust  ter  the  fire 's  I  could,  and 
looked,  and  thar  I  seen  right  in  the  middle  on't,  amongst 
the  burnin'  trees,  a  woman's  gownd,  and  then  a  face : 
'twas  her  face,  I  knowed  it,  fur  she  hadn't  nary  bunnit 
on,  and  the  fire  shone  on  it  bright  as  lightnin'  !  But 
thar  war  half  a  acre  o'  blazin'  timber  atween  her  and 
me;  and  besides,  I  was  so  struck  up  all  of  a  heap,  J 


262  IN   THE    BURNING    WOODS. 

couldn't  do  nary  thing  fur  nigh  about  a  minute  —  1 
couldn't  even  holler  ter  let  her  know  I  war  thar.  And 
'fore  I  knowed  what  I  war  about,  durned  if  she  hadn't 
gone  !  " 

Penn  afterwards  understood  that  Dan  had  actually  had 
a  glimpse  of  Virginia  when  she  ran  out  to  the  entrance 
of  the  gorge,  and  stood  there  a  moment  in  the  terrible 
heat  and  glare. 

"  Where  —  show  me  where ! "  he  exclaimed  with 
fierce  vehemence,  dragging  Pepperill  after  him  down 
the  rocks. 

"It  war  a  considerable  piece  this  side  the  round 
rock,  nigh  the  upper  eend  o'  the  grove,"  said  Dan,  in  a 
jarred  voice,  clattering  after  him,  as  fast  as  he  could. 
"  I  reckon  I  kin  find  it,  if  'tain't  too  late." 

Too  late  ?  It  must  not  be  too  late  !  Penn  leaps 
down  the  ledges,  and  rushes  through  the  thickets,  as 
if  he  would  overtake  time  itself.  They  reach  the  burn- 
ing grove.  Pepperill  points  out  as  nearly  as  he  can  the 
spot  where  he  stood  when  he  saw  Virginia.  Great  God  ! 
if  she  was  in  there,  what  a  frightful  end  was  hers ! 

"  Daniel !  are  you  sure  ?  "  —  for  Penn  cannot,  will 
not  believe  —  it  is  too  terrible  ! 

Daniel  is  very  sure  ;  and  he  withdraws  from  th?  in- 
sufferable heat,  to  which  his  companion  appears  in- 
sensible. 

"  There  is  a  gorge  just  above  there ;  perhaps  she 
escaped  into  the  gorge.  O,  if  I  had  known  !  "  groans 


IK    THE   BURNING    WOODS.  263 

the  half-distracted  youth,  thinking  how  near  he  must 
have  been  to  her  when  the  fire  awoke  him. 

He  still  hopes  that  Dan's  vision  of  her  in  the  fire 
was  hut  the  hallucination  of  a  bewildered  brain.  Yet 
no  effort  will  he  spare,  no  danger  will  he  shun.  The 
entrance  to  the  gorge  is  all  a  gulf  of  flame  ;  and  the 
woods  are  blazing  upwards  along  the  cliffs,  and  all  the 
forest  beyond  is  turning  to  a  sea  of  fire.  Yet  the  gorge 
must  be  reached.  Back  again  up  the  steep  slope  they 
climb.  Penn  flies  to  the  verge  of  the  cliff.  He  looks 
down  :  the  chasm  is  all  a  glare  of  light.  There  runs  the 
red-gleaming  brook.  He  sees  the  logs,  the  stones,  the 
mosses,  all  the  wild  entanglement,  deep  below.  But  no 
Virginia.  He  runs  almost  into  the  crackling  flames,  in 
order  to  peer  farther  down  the  gorge.  Then  he  darts 
away  in  the  opposite  direction,  along  the  very  brink  of 
the  precipice,  among  the  fire-lit  trees, —  Pepperill  stupidly 
following.  He  seizes  hold  of  a  sapling,  and,  with  his 
foot  braced  against  its  root,  swings  his  body  forward  over 
the  chasm,  the  better  to  gaze  into  its  depths.  From  that 
position  he  casts  his  eye  up  the  gorge.  He  sees  the  cas- 
cade falling  over  the  ledge  in  a  sheet  of  ruddy  foam. 
He  discovers  the  upper  gorge;  sees  a  monster  of  the 
forest  come  plunging  and  plashing  down  to  the  fall, 
and  there  lift  himself  on  his  haunches  to  look  ;  —  and 
what  is  that  other  object,  half  hidden  by  a  drooping 
bough  ?  It  is  Virginia  clinging  to  the  rocks. 

A  moment   before,  had  Penn   made  the  discovery  of 


264  IN    THE    BURNING    WOODS. 

the  young  girl  still  unharmed  by  fire,  his  happiness  would 
have  been  supreme.  But  now  joy  was  checked  by  an 
appalling  fear.  The  bear  might  seize  her,  or  with  a 
stroke  of  his  paw  hurl  her  from  his  path. 

Penn  caught  hold  of  the  bough  that  impeded  his  view, 
and  saw  how  precarious  was  her  hold.  He  dared  not 
so  much  as  call  to  her,  or  shout  to  frighten  the  monster 
away,  lest,  her  attention  being  for  an  instant  distracted, 
she  might  turn  her  head,  lose  her  balance,  and  fall  back- 
wards from  the  rocks. 

"  Durned  if  she  ain't  thar  !  "  said  Dan,  excitedly. 
"  But  she's  got  a  powerful  slim  chance  with  the  bar  !  " 

"  Come  with  me  !  "  said  Penn. 

He  ran  to  the  upper  gorge,  showed  himself  on  the 
bank  above  the  cascade,  and  shouted.  The  bear,  as  he 
anticipated,  turned  and  looked  up  at  him.  Virginia  at 
the  same  time  saw  her  deliverer. 

"  Hold  on  !  I'll  be  with  you  in  a  minute !  "  he  cried 
in  a  voice  heard  above  the  noise  of  the  waterfall  and  the 
roar  of  the  conflagration. 

She  clung  fast,  hope  and  gladness  thrilling  her  soul, 
and  giving  her  new  strength. 

To  reach  her,  Penn  had  a  precipitous  descent  of  near 
thirty  feet  to  make.  He  did  not  pause  to  consider  the 
difficulty  of  getting  up  again,  or  the  peril  of  encountering 
the  bear.  He  jumped  down  over  a  perpendicular  ledge 
upon  a  projection  ten  feet  below.  Beyond  that  was  a 
rapid  slope  covered  with  moss  and  thin  patches  of  soil, 


TK    THE   BURNING    WOODS.  265 

with  here  and  there  a  shrub,  and  here  and  there  a  tree, 
Striking  his  heels  into  the  soil,  and  catching  at  whatevei 
branch  or  stem  presented  itself,  he  took  the  plunge. 
Clinging,  sliding,  falling,  he  arrived  at  the  bottom.  It 
a  posture  half  sitting,  half  standing,  and  considerably 
jarred,  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  Bruin.  The 
animal  had  settled  down  on  all  fours,  and  now,  with  his 
surly,  depressed  head  turned  sullenly  to  one  side,  he 
looked  at  Penn,  and  growled.  Penn  looked  at  him,  and 
said  nothing.  He  had  heard  of  staring  wild  beasts  out 
of  countenance  —  an  experiment  that  could  be  conducted 
strictly  on  peace  principles,  if  the  bear  w'ould  only  prove 
as  good  a  Quaker  as  himself.  He  resolved  to  try  it : 
indeed,  all  unarmed  as  he  was,  what  else  could  he  do  ? 
He  might  at  least,  by  diverting  the  brute's  attention, 
give  Virginia  time  to  get  into  a  position  of  safety.  So 
he  stood  up,  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  red-blinking  eyes 
of  the  ferocious  beast.  Something  Bruin  did  not  like  :  it 
might  have  been  the  youth's  company  and  valiant  bearing, 
but  more  probably  his  observation  of  the  fire  had  satis- 
fied him  that  he  was  out  of  his  place.  With  another 
growl,  that  seemed  to  say,  "  All  I  ask  is  to  be  let  alone," 
he  seceded,  —  turning  his  head  still  more,  twisting  his 
body  around  after  it,  and  retreating  up  the  gorge. 

In  an  instant  Penn  was  at  the  young  girl's  side  :  his 
hand  clasped  hers  ;  he  drew  her  up  over  the  rock. 

Not  a  word  was  uttered.  He  was  too  agitated  to 
speak ;  and  she,  after  the  terror  and  the  strain  to  which 
23 


266  IN    THE  BURNING    WOODS. 

her  nerves  had  been  subjected  so  long,  felt  all  her  strength 
give  way.  But  as  he  lifted  her  in  his  arms,  a  faint 
smile  of  happiness  flitted  over  her  white  face,  and  her 
lips  moved  with  a  whisper  of  gratitude  he  did  not  hear. 

In  spite  of  all  the  dangers  behind  them,  and  of  the 
dangers  still  before,  both  felt,  in  that  moment,  a  shock 
of  mutual  bliss.  Neither  had  ever  known  till  then  how 
dear  the  other  was. 

Pepperill  had  by  this  time  leaped  down  upon  the  bulge 
of  the  bank.  There  he  waited  for  them,  shouting,  — 

"  Hurry  up  !  the  bar  '11  meet  the  fire  up  thar,  and 
be  comin'  down  agin  !  " 

Penn  required  no  spur  to  his  exertions  :  he  knew  too 
well  the  necessity  of  getting  speedily  beyond  the  reach, 
not  of  the  bear  only,  but  also  of  the  fire,  which  threat- 
ened them  now  on  three  sides  —  below,  above,  and  on  the 
farther  bank  of  the  gorge. 

Clasping  the  burden  more  precious  to  him  than  life, 
resolved  in  his  soul  to  part  with  it  only  with  life,  he 
toiled  heavily  up  the  bank,  down  which  he  had  de- 
scended with  such  tremendous  swiftness  a  few  minutes 
before. 

But  it  was  not  in  Virginia's  nature  to  remain  long  a 
helpless  encumbrance.  Seeing  the  labor  and  peril  still 
before  them,  her  will  returned,  and  with  it  her  strength. 
She  grasped  a  branch  by  which  he  was  trying  in  vain  with 
one  hand,  holding  her  with  the  other,  to  draw  them  both 
up  a  steep  place.  Her  prompt  action  enabled  him  to  seize 


IN   THE   BURNING    WOODS.  267 

the  trunk  of  a  young  tree  :  she  assisted  still,  and  slipping 
from  his  hands,  clung  to  it  until  he  had  reached  the  next 
tree  above.  He  pulled  her  up  after  him,  and  then  pushed 
her  on  still  farther,  until  Pepperill  could  reach  her  from 
where  he  stood.  A  minute  later  the  three  were  together 
on  the  summit  of  the  slope. 

But  now  they  had  above  them  the  ten  feet  of  sheer 
perpendicularity  down  which  Dan  had  indiscreetly  jumped, 
following  Perm's  lead.  A  single  hand  above  them  would 
now  be  worth  several  hands  below. 

"  What  a  fool  I  war  !  durned  if  I  warn't !  "  said  Dan, 
endeavoring  unsuccessfully  to  find  a  place  by  which  he 
could  reascend. 

"  Get  on  my  shoulders  !  "  And  Penn  braced  himself 
against  the  ledge. 

Dan  made  the  attempt,  but  fell,  and  rolled  down  the 
bank. 

Just  then  a  grinning  black  face  appeared  above. 

"  Gib  me  de  gal !  gib  me  de  gal !  "  and  a  prodigiously 
long  arm  reached  down. 

"  O  Cudjo  !  you  are  an  angel ! "  cried  Penn.  "  Daniel ! 
Here !  " 

Pepperill  was  up  the  bank  again  in  a  minute,  at 
Penn's  side.  They  lifted  Virginia  above  their  heads. 
Holding  on  by  a  sapling  with  one  hand,  the  negro  ex, 
tended  the  other  far  down  over  the  ledge.  Those  mirac- 
ulous arms  of  his  seemed  to  have  been  made  expressly 
for  this  service.  He  grasped  a  wrist  of  the  girl ;  with 


268  IN    THE   BURNING    WOODS. 

the  other  hand  she  clung  to  his  arm  until  he  had  drawn 
her  up  to  the  sapling  ;  this  she  seized,  and  helped  her- 
self out.  Then  once  more  Penn  gave  Daniel  his  shoul- 
der, while  Cudjo  gave  him  a  hand  from  ahove ;  and 
Daniel  was  safe.  Last  of  all,  Penn  remained. 

"  Cotch  holt  hyar !  "  said  Cudjo,  extending  towards 
him  the  end  of  a  branch  he  had  broken  from  a  tree. 

To  this  Penn  held  fast,  assisting  himself  with  his  feet 
against  the  ledge,  while  Cudjo  and  Dan  hauled  him  up. 

"  Good  Cudjo  !  how  came  you  here  ? " 

"  Me  see  you  and  Pepperill  a  gwine  inter  de  fire. 
So  me  foller." 

"  This  is  the  old  man's  daughter,  Cudjo." 

Cudjo  regarded  the  beautiful  young  girl  with  a  look 
of  vague  wonder  and  admiration. 

"He  remembers  me,"  said  Virginia.  "  I  saw  him  the 
night  he  climbed  in  at  Toby's  window."  She  gave  him 
her  hand  ;  it  trembled  with  emotion.  "  I  thank  you, 
Cudjo,  for  what  you  have  done  for  my  father  —  and  for 
me." 

'*  Now,  Cudjo !  show  us  the  nearest  and  easiest  path. 
We  must  take  her  to  the  cave  —  there  is  no  other 
way." 

"  You  must  be  right  spry,  dc-n !  "  said  Cudjo.  "  De  fire 
am  a  runnin'  ober  dat  way  powerful !  " 

Indeed,  it  had  already  crossed  the  upper  end  of  the 
gorge,  where  the  forest  brook  fell  into  it ;  and,  getting 
into  some  beds  of  leaves,  and  thence  into  dense  and 


Itf    THE   BURNING    WOODS.  26S 

inflammable  thickets,  it  was  now  blazing  directly  across 
their  line  of  retreat. 

Penn  would  have  carried  Virginia  in  his  arms,  but  she 
would  not  suffer  him. 

"  I  can  go  where  you  can  !  "  she  cried,  once  more  full 
of  spirit  and  daring.  "  Just  give  me  your  hand  —  you 
•hall  see  !  " 

Penn  took  one  of  her  hands,  Pepperill  the  other,  and 
with  their  aid,  supporting  her,  lifting  her,  she  sprang 
lightly  up  the  ledges,  and  from  rock  to  rock. 

Cudjo,  carrying  Dan's  gun,  ran  on  before,  leading  the 
way  through  hollows  and  among  bushes,  by  a  route 
known  only  to  himself.  So  they  reached  a  piece  of 
woods,  by  the  thin  skirts  of  which  he  hoped  to  head  ofi' 
the  fire.  Too  late  —  it  was  there  before  them.  It  ran 
swiftly  among  the  fallen  leaves  and  twigs,  and  spread 
far  into  the  woods. 

The  negro  turned  back.  There  was  a  wild  grimace  in 
his  face,  and  a  glitter  in  his  eyes,  as  he  threw  up  his 
hand,  by  way  of  signal  that  their  flight  in  that  direction 
was  cut  off. 

"  Cudjo  !  what  is  to  be  done  !  "  And  Penn  drew  Vir- 
ginia towards  him  with  a  look  that  showed  his  fears  were 
all  for  her. 

"  We  can't  git  off  down  the  mountain,  nuther  !  "  said 
Dan.  "  It's  gittin'  into  the  woods  down  thar.  It  '11  be 
all  around  us  in  no  time  !  " 

"  You  let  Cudjo  do  what  him  pleases  ?  "  said  the  black 
23* 


270  IN    THE   BURNING    WOODS. 

"  I  can  trust  you  !     Can  you,  Virginia  ?  " 

"  He  should  know  what  is  hest.  Yes,  I  will  trust 
him." 

"  Take  dat  'ar  !  "  Pepperill  received  his  gun.  "  Now 
you  look  out  fur  youselves.  Me  tote  de  gal." 

And  catching  up  Virginia,  hefore  Penn  could  stop 
him,  or  question  him,  he  rushed  with  her  into  the 
fire. 

Penn  ran  after  him,  perceiving  at  once  the  meaning  of 
this  hold  act.  The  woods  were  not  yet  fairly  kindled  ; 
only  now  and  then  the  loose  bark  of  a  dry  trunk  was 
beginning  to  blaze.  Cudjo  leaped  over  the  line  of  flame 
that  was  running  along  the  ground,  and  bore  Virginia 
high  above  it  to  the  other  side.  Penn  followed,  and  Dan 
came  close  behind.  They  then  had  before  them  a  tract 
of  blackened  ground  which  the  flames  had  swept,  leav- 
ing here  and  there  a  dead  limb  or  mat  of  leaves  still 
burning. 

These  little  fires  were  easily  avoided.  But  they  soon 
came  to  another  line  of  flame  raging  on  the  upper  side  of 
the  burnt  tract.  They  were  almost  out  of  the  woods  : 
>nly  that  red,  crackling  hedge  fenced  them  in  ;  but  that 
'hey  could  not  pass  :  the  underbrush  all  along  the  forest 
*;dge  was  burning.  And  there  they  were,  brought  to  a 
halt,  half-stifled  with  smoke,  in  the  midst  of  woods 
kindling  and  blazing  all  around  them. 

"  May  as  well  pull  up  hyar,  and  take  a  href,"  re- 
marked Cudjo,  grimly,  placing  Virginia  on  a  log  too  dank 


IX   THE   BURNIN-G    WOODS.  271 

with  decay  and  moss  to  catch  fire  easily.  "  Den  we's  try 
'em  agin." 

A  horrible  suspicion  crossed  Penn's  mind  ;  the  fanati- 
cal fire-worshipper  had  brought  them  there  to  destroy 
them  —  to  sacrifice  them  to  his  god  ! 

"  Virginia  !  "  —  eagerly  laying  hold  of  her  arm,  — 
"  we  must  retreat  !  It  will  soon  be  too  late  !  We  can 
get  out  of  the  woods  where  we  came  in,  if  we  go 
at  once  !  " 

"  Beg  pai'don,  sar,"  said  Cudjo,  stamping  out  fire  in  the 
leaves  by  the  end  of  the  log,  —  and  he  looked  up  through 
the  smoke  at  Penn,  with  the  old  malignant  grin  on  his 
apish  face. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Cudjo  ?  "  said  Penn,  in  an  ago- 
ny of  doubt. 

"  Can't  get  back  dat  way,  sar  !  " 

"  Then  you  have  led  us  here  to  destroy  us  !  " 

"  You's  no  longer  trust  Cudjo !  "  was  the  negro's  only 
reply. 

"  Didn't  we  trust  you  ?  Haven't  we  come  through  fire, 
following  you  ?  O  Cudjo !  more  than  once  you  have 
helped  to  save  my  life !  You  have  helped  to  save 
this  life,  dearer  than  mine  !  Why  do  you  desert  us 
now  ?  " 

"  'Sert  you  ?  Cudjo  no  'sert  you."  But  the  negro 
spoke  sullenly,  and  there  was  still  a  sparkle  of  malignancy 
in  his  look. 

"  Then  why  do  you  stop  here  ?  " 


272  /AT    THE   BURtflXG    JfOOl  8 

"  Hugh  !  tink  we's  go  trough  dat  fire  like  we  done 
trough  tudder  ? " 

"  What  then  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

"  You's  no  longer  trust  Cudjo  ! "  was  once  more  the 
sullen  response. 

Virginia,  with  her  quick  perceptions,  saw  at  once  what 
Penn  was  cither  too  dull  or  too  much  excited  to  see.  Cudjo 
felt  himself  aggrieved  ;  but  he  was  not  unfaithful. 

"  /  trust  you,  Cudjo  !  "  —  and  she  laid  her  hand  frank- 
ly and  confidingly  on  his  shoulder.  "  Did  I  tremble,  did 
I  shrink  when  you  carried  me  through  the  fire  ?  I  shall 
never  forget  how  brave,  how  good  you  are  !  He  trusts 
you  too,  —  only  he  is  so  afraid  for  me  !  You  can  forgive 
that,  Cudjo." 

"She  is  right,"  said  Penn,  though  still  in  doubt.  "  If 
you  know  a  way  to  save  her,  don't  lose  a  moment !  " 

"  He  knows ;  on'y  let  him  take  his  time/'  said  Pepper- 
ill,  whose  firm  faith  in  the  negro's  good  will  shamed  Penn 
for  his  distrust.  And  yet  Pepperill  did  not  love,  as  Penu 
loved,  the  girl  whose  life  was  in  danger  ;  and  he  had  not 
seen  the  evidences  of  Cudjo' s  fire- worshipping  fanaticism 
which  Penn  had  seen. 

Under  the  influence  of  Virginia's  gentle  and  soothing 
words,  the  glitter  of  resentment  died  out  of  the  negro's 
face.  But  his  aspect  was  still  morose. 

"  De  fire  take  his  time  to  burn  out;  so  we's  take  our 
time  too,"  said  he.  "  You  try  your  chance  wid  Cudjo 


IN    THE   BURNING    WOODS.  273 

"  Certainly !  for  I  am  sure  you  will  take  us  safely 
through  yet  !  "  s:iid  Virginia,  without  a  shadow  of  doubt 
or  hesitation  on  her  face,  however  dark  may  have  been 
the  shadow  on  her  heart. 

The  negro  was  evidently  well  pleased.  He  examined 
carefully  the  line  of  fire  in  the  undergrowth.  And  now 
Penn  discovered,  what  Cudjo  had  known  very  well  from 
the  first,  that  there  were  barren  ledges  above,  and  that 
the  fire  was  rapidly  burning  itself  out  along  their  base. 
An  opening  through  which  a  courageous  and  active  man 
might  dash  unscathed  soon  presented  itself.  Then  Cudjo 
waited  no  longer  to  "  take  bref."  He  caught  Virginia  in 
his  arms,  and  bore  her  through  the  second  line  of  fire,  as 
he  had  borne  her  through  the  first,  and  placed  her  in 
safety  on  the  rocks  above. 

"  Cudjo,  my  brave,  my  noble  fellow  !  "  said  Penn, 
deeply  affected,  "  I  have  wronged  you  ;  I  confess  it  with 
shame.  Forgive  me  !  " 

"  Cudjo  hab  nuffin  to  forgib,"  replied  the  negro,  with  a 
laugh  of  pleasure  "  Neber  mention  um,  massa  !  All 
right  now  !  Reckon  we's  better  be  gitt'n  out  o'  dis  yer 
smudge  !  " 

He  showed  the  way,  and  Penn  and  Daniel  helped  Vir- 
ginia up  the  rocks  as  before. 

They  had  reached  a  smooth  and  unsheltered  ledge  near 
the  ravine,  a  little  below  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  when  a 
hideous  and  inhuman  shriek  rent  the  air. 

"  What  dat  ?  "  cried  Cudjo,  stopping  short ;  and  his  TIS- 


274  IN   THE  BURNING    WOODS. 

age  in  the  smoky  and  lurid  light  looked  wild  with  super- 
stitious alarm. 

The  sound  was  repeated,  louder,  nearer,  more  hideous 
than  before,  seeming  to  make  the  very  atmosphere  shud- 
der above  their  heads. 

"  Go  on,  Cudjo  !  go  on  !  "  Penn  commanded. 

The  terrified  black  crouched  and  gibbered,  but  would 
not  stir.  Then  straightway  a  sharp  clatter,  as  of  iron 
hoofs  flying  at  a  furious  gallop,  resounded  along  the 
mountain-side.  By  a  simultaneous  impulse  the  little 
party  huddled  together,  and  turned  their  faces  towards 
the  fire,  and  saw  coming  down  towards  them  a  horse  with 
the  speed  of  the  wind. 

"  Stand  close !  "  said  Penn  ;  and  he  threw  himself 
before  Virginia,  to  shield  her,  shouting  and  swinging  his 
hat  to  frighten  the  animal  from  his  course. 

"  Stackridge's  hoss  !  "  exclaimed  Cudjo,  recovering  from 
his  fright,  leaping  up,  and  flinging  abroad  his  long  arms 
in  the  air.  "  Wiv  some  poor  debil  onter  him's  back  !  " 

It  was  so.  The  little  group  stood  motionless,  chilled 
with  horror.  The  beast  came  thundering  on,  with  lips  of 
terror  parted,  nostrils  wide  and  snorting,  mane  and  tail 
flying  in  the  wild  air,  hoofs  striking  fire  from  the  rocks. 
A  human  being  —  a  man  —  was  lying  close  to  his  neck, 
and  clinging  fast:  the  face  hidden  by  the  tossing  and 
streaming  mane  :  a  fearful  ride  !  the  mystery  surround- 
ing him,  and  the  awful  glare  and  smoke,  enhancing  the 
horror  of  it. 


IN   THE   BURNTW    WOOD».  275 

Approaching  the  group  on  the  ledge,  the  animal  veered, 
and  shot  past  them  like  a  thunderbolt ;  clearing  rocks, 
hollows,  bushes,  with  incredible  bounds ;  nearing  the 
ravine,  but  halting  not ;  dashing  into  the  thickets  there, 
missing  suddenly  the  ground  beneath  his  feet,  striking 
only  the  air  and  yielding  oougns  with  frantic  hoofs  ;  then 
plunging  down  with  a  dull,  reverberant  crash, — horse  and 
unknown  rider  rolling  together  over  rocks  and  spiked 
limbs  to  the  bottom  of  the  ravine. 

Then  all  svas  still  again  :  it  had  passed  like  a  vision  of 
fear, 


276  REFUGE. 


XXX, 


REFUGE. 


O  R  a  moment  the  little  group  stood  dumr 
and  motionless  on  the  ledge,  in  the  flare  of 
the  vast  flame-curtains.  They  looked  at 
each  other.  Penn  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  Which  of  us  goes  down  into  the  ravine  ? " 

"Wha'  fur?"  said  Cudjo. 

"  To  find  him  !  "  And  Penn  gazed  anxiously  towards 
the  thickets  into  which  the  horse  and  horseman  had 
gone  down. 

"  Dat  no  j>ood  !     Deader  'n  de  debil,  shore  !  " 

"  O,  may  be  he  is  not !  "  exclaimed  Virginia,  full  of 
compassion  for  the  unfortunate  unknown.  "  T>o  go  and 
see,  Cudjo  !  " 

"  Fire  '11  be  dar  in  less'n  no  time.  Him  nuffin  to  Cudjo. 
We's  best  be  gwine."  And  the  negro  started  off,  dog- 
gedly, towards  the  cave. 

Then  Penn  took  the  resolution  which  he  would  have 
taken  at  once  but  for  Virginia.  "  Stay  with  her, 
Daniel !  I  will  go  ! " 


REFUGE.  277 

Virginia  turned  pale  ;  she  had  not  thought  of  that 
But  immediately  she  controlled  her  fears :  she  would 
not  be  selfish :  if  he  was  brave  and  generous  enough  to 
descend  into  the  ravine  for  one  he  did  not  know,  she 
would  be  equally  brave  and  generous,  and  let  him  go. 
She  clasped  her  hands  together  so  that  they  should  not 
hold  him  back,  and  forced  her  lips  to  say,  — 

"  I  will  wait  for  you  here." 

"  No,  I  be  durned  if  ye  shall !  Hapgood,  you  stick 
to  her :  take  this  yer  gun,  and  I'll  slip  down  inter  the 
holler,  and  see  whuther  the  cuss's  alive  or  dead,  any 
how." 

"  O,  Mr.  Pepperill,  if  you  will ! "  said  Virginia, 
overjoyed. 

Penn  remonstrated,  —  rather  feebly,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, for  the  determination  to  part  from  her  had  cost 
him  a  struggle,  and  the  privilege  of  keeping  by  her 
side  till  all  danger  was  past,  seemed  too  sweet  to  refuse. 

"  I'll  take  her  to  her  father,  and  hurry  back,  and  meet 
you." 

"  All  right !  "  came  the  response  from  Dan,  already 
far  down  the  rocks. 

"  The  cave  is  close  by,"  said  Penn.  "  There  is 
Cudjo,  waiting  for  us  !  " 

Coming  up  with  the  black,  and  once  more  following 
his  lead,  they  descended  along  the  shelf  of  rocks,  be- 
tween the  thickets  and  the  overhanging  ledge.  So  they 
came  to  the  still  dark  jaws  of  the  cavern.  A  grateful 
24 


278 


coolness  breathed  in  their  faces  from  within.  But  htrw 
dismal  the  entrance  seemed  to  eyes  lately  dazzled  by 
the  blazing  woods!  Virginia  clung  tightly  to  Penn's 
hand,  as  they  groped  their  way  in. 

At  first  nothing  was  visible  but  a  few  smouldering 
embers,  winking  their  sleepy  eyes  in  the  dark.  Out  of 
these  Cudjo  soon  blew  a  little  blaze,  which  he  fed  with 
sticks  and  bits  of  bark  until  it  lighted  up  fitfully  the 
dim  interior  and  shadowy  walls  of  his  abode. 

Penn  hushed  Virginia  with  a  finger  on  his  lips,  and 
restrained  her  from  throwing  herself  forward  upon  the 
rude  bed,  where  the  blind  old  man  was  just  awaking 
from  a  sound  sleep. 

In  that  profound  subterranean  solitude  the  roar  of 
the  fiery  breakers,  dashing  on  the  mountain  side,  was 
subdued  to  a  faint  murmur,  less  distinct  than  the 
dripping  of  water  from  roof  to  floor  in  the  farther  re- 
cesses of  the  cave.  There,  left  alone,  lulled  by  the 
dull,  monotonous  trickle,  —  thinking,  if  he  heard  the  roar 
at  all,  that  it  was  the  mountain  wind  blowing  among 
the  pines,  —  Mr.  Villars  had  slept  tranquilly  through  all 
the  horrors  of  that  night. 

"Is  it  you,  Penn  ?  Safs  again  !  "  And  sitting  up, 
he  grasped  the  young  man's  hand.  "  What  news  from 
my  dear  girl :  —  from  my  two  dear  girls  ?  "  he  added, 
remembering  Virginia  was  not  his  only  child. 

"  Toby  did  not  come  to  the  rock,"  said  Penn,  stil] 
holding  Virginia  back. 


REFUGE.  279- 

"  O  !  did  he  not  ?  "  It  seemed  a  heavy  disappoint- 
ment ;  but  the  patient  old  man  rallied  straightway, 
saying,  with  his  accustomed  cheerfulness,  "  No  doubt 
something  hindered  him  ;  no  doubt  he  would  have  come 
if  he  could.  My  poor,  dear  girl,  how  I  wish  I  could 
have  got  word  to  her  that  I  am  safe  !  But  I  thank  you 
all  the  same  ;  it  was  kind  in  you  to  give  yourself  all 
that  trouble." 

"  I  believe  all  is  for  the  best,"  said  Penn,  his  voice 
trembling. 

"  No  doubt,  no  doubt.  It  will  be  some  time  before 
I  can  have  the  consolation  of  my  dear  girl's  presence 
again  ;  I,  who  never  knew  till  now  how  necessary  she 
is  to  my  happiness,  —  I  may  say,  to  my  very  life  ! " 
Mr.  Villars  wiped  a  tear  he  could  not  repress,  and 
smiled.  "  Yes,  Penn,  God  knows  what  is  best  for  us 
all.  His  will  be  done  i  " 

But  now  Virginia  could  restrain  herself  no  longer ; 
her  sobs  would  burst  forth. 

"  Father  !  father  !  " —  throwing  herself  upon  his  neck. 
"0,  my  dear,  dear  father !  " 

Penn  had  feared  the  effect  of  the  sudden  surprise  upon 
the  old  and  feeble  man,  and  had  meant  to  break  the  good 
news  to  him  softly.  But  human  nature  was  too  strong ; 
his  own  emotions  had  baffled  him,  and  the  pious  little 
artifice  proved  a  complete  failure.  So  now  he  could 
do  nothing  but  stand  by  and  make  grim  faces,  struggling 
to  keep  down  what  was  mastering  him,  and  turning 
away  blindly  from  the  bed. 


280  REFUGE. 

Even  Cudjo  appeared  deeply  affected,  staring  stupidly, 
and  winking  something  like  a  tear  from  the  whites  of 
his  eyes  at  sight  of  the  father  embracing  his  child,  and 
the  white  locks  mingling  with  the  wet,  tangled  curls  on 
her  cheek.  He  was  a  ludicrous,  pathetic  object,  wink- 
ing and  staring  thus  ;  and  Penn  laughed  and  cried  too, 
at  sight  of  him. 

"  Luk  dar ! "  said  Cudjo,  coming  up  to  him,  and 
pointing  at  the  little  walled  chamber  that  served  as  his 
pantry.  "  She  hab  dat  fur  her  dressum  room.  Sleep 
dar,  too,  if  she  likes." 

"  Thank  you,  Cudjo !  it  will  be  very  acceptable,  I 
am  sure." 

"  Me  clar  it  up  fur  her  all  scrumptious  !  "  added  the 
negro,  with  a  grin. 

Penn  had  thought  of  that.  But  now  he  had  other 
business  on  his  hands :  he  must  hasten  to  find  Pep- 
perill :  nor  could  he  keep  anxious  thoughts  of  Stackridge 
and  his  friends  out  of  his  mind.  And  Pomp  —  where 
all  this  time  was  Pomp  ?  He  had  hoped  to  find  him 
and  the  patriots  all  safely  arrived  in  the  cave. 

Virginia  was  seated  on  the  bed  by  her  father's  side. 
Penn  threw  a  blanket  over  the  dear  young  shoulders, 
to  shield  her  from  the  sudden  cold  of  the  cave  ;  then 
left  her  relating  her  adventures,  —  beckoning  to  Cudjo, 
who  followed  him  out. 

"Cudjo!"  —  the  black  glided  to  his  side  as  they 
emerged  from  the  ravine,  —  "you  must  go  and  find 
Pomp." 


281 


Cudjo  laughed  and  shrugged. 

"  No  use't !  Reckon  Pomp  take  keer  o'  hisself  heap 
better  'n  we's  take  keer  on  him  ! " 

True.  Pomp  knew  the  woods.  He  was  athletic, 
cautious,  brave.  But  he  had  gone  to  extricate  from 
peril  others,  in  whose  fate  he  himself  might  become 
Involved.  Cudjo  refused  to  take  this  view  of  the  matter ; 
And  it  was  evident  that,  while  he  comforted  himself  with 
his  deep  convictions  of  Pomp's  ability  to  look  out  foi 
his  own  safety,  he  was,  to  say  the  least,  quite  indif- 
ferent as  to  the  welfare  of  the  patriots. 

Forgetting  Dan  and  the  unknown  horseman  in  his 
great  solicitude  for  his  absent  friends,  Penn  climbed 
the  ledges,  and  gazed  away  in  the  direction  of  the  camp 
and  beheld  the  forest  there  a  raging  gulf  of  fire. 

Assuredly,  they  must  have  fled  from  it  before  this 
time  ;  but  whither  had  they  gone  ?  Had  Pomp  been 
able  to  find  them  ?  Or  might  they  not  all  have  become 
entangled  in  the  intricacies  of  the  wilderness  until  en- 
compassed by  the  fire  and  destroyed  ? 

Penn  watched  in  vain  for  their  coming — in  vain  for 
some  signal  of  their  safety  on  the  crags  above  the  for- 
est. Had  they  reached  the  crags,  he  thought  he  might 
discover  them  somewhere  with  a  glass,  so  vividly  were 
those  grim  rock-foreheads  of  the  hills  lighted  up  beneatl 
the  red  sky. 

He  sent  Cudjo  to  find  Dan,  ran  to  the  cave  for 
Pomp's  glass,  and  returned  to  the  ledge.  There  hr 
24* 


282  REFUGE. 

waited ;  there  he  watched ;  still  in  vain.  Wider  and 
wider  spread  the  destroying  sea ;  fiercer  and  fiercer  leaped 
the  billows  of  flame  —  the  billows  that  did  not  fall  again, 
but  broke  away  in  rent  sheets,  in  red-rolling  scrolls,  and 
vanished  upward  in  their  own  smoke. 

And  now  Penn,  lowering  the  glass,  perceived  what  he 
must  long  since  have  been  made  aware  of,  had  not  the 
greater  light  concealed  the  less.  It  was  morning ;  a  dull 
and  sunless  dawn  ;  the  despairing  daylight,  filtered  of  all 
warmth  and  color,  spreading  dim  and  gray  on  the  misty 
valleys,  and  on  the  sombre,  far-off  hills,  under  an  inter- 
minable canopy  of  cloud. 

Pepperill  came  clambering  up  the  rocks.  Penn  turned 
eagerly  to  meet  and  question  him. 

"Find  him?" 

"  Wai,  a  piece  on  him." 

"Killed?" 

"  I  reckon  he  ar  that !  " 

"  Who  is  it  ?  " 

"  Durned  if  I  kin  tell!  He's  jammed  in  thar  'twixt 
two  gre't  stuns,  and  the  hoss  is  piled  on  top,  and  you 
can't  see  nary  featur'  of  his  face,  only  the  legs,  —  but 
durned  if  I  know  the  legs  !  " 

"  Couldn't  you  move  the  horse  ?  " 

"  Nary  a  bit.  His  neck  is  broke,  and  he  lays  wedged 
so  clust,  right  on  top  o'  the  poor  cuss,  'twould  take  a  yoke 
o'  oxen  to  drag  him  out." 

"  Are  you  sure  the  man  is  dead  ?  " 


REFUGE.  283 

"  Shore  ?  I  reckon  !  He  had  one  arm  loose.  I  jest 
lifted  it,  and  it  drapped  jest  like  a  club  when  I  let  go ; 
then  I  see  'twas  broke  square  off  jest  above  the  elbow, 
about  where  the  backbone  o'  the  hoss  comes.  Made  me 
durned  sick  !  " 

"  What  have  you  got  in  your  hand  ?  " 

"  A  boot  —  one  o'  his'n  —  thought  I'd  pull  it  off,  his 
leg  stuck  up  so  kind  o'  handy ;  didn't  know  but  some  on 
ye  might  know  the  boot."  And  Dan  held  it  up  for 
Penn's  inspection. 

"  What  is  this  on  it  ?     Blood  ?  " 

"  It  ar  so !  Mebby  it's  the  hoss's,  and  then  agin 
mebby  it's  his'n ;  I  hadn't  noticed  it  afore." 

"  I'll  go  back  with  you,  Daniel.  Together  perhaps  we 
can  move  the  horse." 

"Ye're  behind  time  for  that!  The  fire's  thar.  I 
hadn't  only  jest  time  to  git  cl'ar  on't  myself.  The  poor 
cuss  is  a  br'ilin'  !  " 

"  K-r-r-r !  hi !  don't  ye  har  me  callin' !  "  Cudjo  sprang 
up  the  ledge.  "  Fire's  a  comin'  to  de  cave  !  All  in  de 
brush  dar !  Can't  get  in  widout  ye  go  now  !  " 

"  And  Pomp  and  the  rest !  They  will  be  shut  out,  if 
they  are  not  lost  already !  " 

"  Pomp  know  well  'nuff  what  him  'bout,  tell  ye ! 
Gorry,  massa !  ye  got  to  come,  if  Cudjo  hab  to  tote  ye  ! " 

Yielding  to  his  importunity,  Penn  quitted  the  ledge. 
On  the  shelf  of  rock  Cudjo  paused  to  gnash  his  teeth  at 
the  flames  sweeping  up  towards  them.  He  had  long  since 


284  REFUGE. 

recovered  from  his  fit  of  superstitious  frenzy.  He  had 
seen  the  fire  burning  the  woods  that  sheltered  him  in  his 
mountain  retreat,  instead  of  going  intelligently  to  work  to 
destroy  the  dwellings  of  the  whites ;  and  he  no  longer 
regarded  it  as  a  deity  worthy  of  his  worship. 

"  All  dis  yer  brush  be  burnt  up  !  Den  nuffin'  to  hide 
Cudjo's  house  !  " 

"  Don't  despair,  Cudjo.  We  will  trust  in  Him  who  is 
God  even  of  the  fire." 

Even  as  Penn  spoke,  he  felt  a  cool  spatter  on  his  hand. 
He  looked  up ;  sudden,  plashy  drops  smote  his  face. 

"  Rain  !     It  is  coming  !     Thank  Heaven  for  the  rain !  " 

At  the  same  time,  the  wind  shifted,  and  blew  fitful 
gusts  down  the  mountain.  Then  it  lulled  ;  and  the  rain 
poured. 

"  Cudjo,  your  thickets  are  saved ! ''  said  Penn,  exult- 
antly. Then  immediately  he  thought  of  the  absent  ones, 
for  whom  the  rain  might  be  too  late ;  of  the  beautiful 
forests,  whose  burning  not  cataracts  could  quench ;  of 
the  unknown  corpse  far  below  in  the  ravine  there,  and 
the  swift  soul  gone  to  God. 

"  What  news  ? "  asked  the  old  man  as  he  entered  the 
cave. 

"  It  is  morning,  and  it  rains ;  but  your  friends  are  still 
away.  —  The  man  is  dead,"  aside  to  Virginia. 

"  Heaven  grant  they  be  safe  somewhere !  "  said  the  old 
man.  "  And  Pomp  ?  " 

"  He  is  missing  too." 


REFUGE.  285 

There  was  a  long,  deep  silence.  A  painful  suspense 
seemed  to  hold  every  heart  still,  while  they  listened.  Sud- 
denly a  strange  noise  was  heard,  as  of  a  ghost  walking. 
Louder  and  louder  it  sounded,  hollow,  faint,  far-off.  Was 
it  on  the  rocks  over  their  heads  ?  or  in  caverns  beneath  their 
feet? 

"  Told  ye  so  !  told  ye  so  !  "  said  Cudjo,  laughing  with 
wild  glee. 

The  fire  had  burnt  low  again,  and  he  was  in  the  act  of 
kindling  it,  when  a  novel  idea  seemed  to  strike  him,  and, 
seizing  a  pan,  he  inverted  it  over  the  little  remnant  of  a 
flame.  In  an  instant  the  cave  was  dark.  It  was  some 
seconds  before  the  eyes  of  the  inmates  grew  accustomed  to 
the  gloom,  and  perceived  the  glimmer  of  mingled  daylight 
and  firelight  that  shone  in  at  the  entrance. 

"  Luk  a  dar !  luk  a  dar  !  "  said  Cudjo. 

And  turning  their  eyes  in  the  opposite  direction,  they 
saw  a  faint  golden  glow  in  the  recesses  of  the  cave.  The 
footsteps  approached ;  the  glow  increased ;  then  the 
superb  dark  form  of  Pomp  advanced  in  the  light  of  his 
own  torch.  Penn  hastened  to  meet  him,  and  to  demand 
tidings  of  Stackridge's  party. 

Pomp  first  saluted  Virginia,  with  somewhat  lofty  polite- 
ness, holding  the  torch  above  his  head  as  he  bowed.  Then 
turning  to  Penn,  — 

"  Your  friends  are  all  safe,  I  believe." 

"  All  ?  "  Penn  eagerly  asked,  his  thoughts  on  the  luck« 
less  horseman.  "  None  missing  ?  " 


286  REFUGE. 

"  There  were  three  absent  when  I  reached  their  cairp 
They  had  gone  on  a  foraging  expedition.  I  found  the  rest 
waiting  for  them,  standing  their  ground  against  the  fire, 
which  was  roaring  up  towards  them  at  a  tremendous  rate. 
Soon  the  foragers  came  in.  They  brought  a  basket 
of  potatoes  and  a  bag  of  meal,  but  no  meat.  With- 
ers had  caught  a  pig,  but  it  had  got  away  from  him 
before  he  could  kill  it,  and  he  lost  it  in  the  dark.  The 
others  were  cursing  the  rascals  who  had  set  the  woods 
afire,  but  Withers  lamented  the  pig. 

"  '  Gentlemen,'  said  I,  '  you  have  not  much  time  to 
mourn  either  for  the  woods  or  the  pork.  We  must  take 
care  of  ourselves.'  And  I  offered  to  bring  them  here. 
But  just  then  we  heard  a  rushing  noise ;  it  sounded  like 
some  animal  coming  up  the  course  of  the  brook ;  and  the 
next  minute  it  was  amongst  us  —  a  big  black  bear,  fright- 
ened out  of  his  wits,  singed  by  the  fire,  and  furious." 

"  Your  acquaintance  of  the  gorge,  Virginia  ! "  said 
Penn. 

"  You  will  readily  believe  that  such  an  unexpected  sup- 
ply of  fresh  meat,  sent  by  Providence  within  their  reach, 
proved  a  temptation  to  the  hungry.  Withers,  in  his  hurry 
to  make  up  for  the  loss  of  the  pig,  ran  to  head  the  fellow 
off,  and  attempted  to  stop  him  with  his  musket  after  it  had 
missed  fire.  In  an  instant  the  gun  was  lying  on  the 
ground  several  yards  off,  and  Withers  was  sprawling. 
The  bear  had  done  the  little  business  for  him  with  a  sin- 
gle stroke  of  his  paw  ;  then  he  passed  on,  directly  over 


REFUGE,  287 

Withers' s  body,  which  happened  to  be  in  his  way,  but 
which  he  minded  no  more  than  as  if  it  had  been  a  bundle 
of  rags.  All  this  time  we  couldn't  fire  a  shot;  there  was 
the  risk,  you  see,  of  hitting  Withers  instead  of  the  bear. 
Even  after  he  was  knocked  down,  he  seemed  to  think  he 
had  nothing  more  formidable  than  his  stray  pig  to  deal 
with,  and  tried  to  catch  the  bear  by  the  tail  as  he  ran 
over  him." 

"  So  ye  lost  de  bar  !  "  cried  Cudjo,  greatly  excited. 
"  Fool,  tink  o'  cotchin'  on  him  by  de  tail !  " 

"  Still  we  couldn't  fire,  for  he  was  on  his  legs  again  in 
a  second,  chasing  the  bear's  tail  directly  before  our  muz- 
zles," said  Pomp,  quietly  laughing.  "  But  luckily  a  stick 
flew  up  under  his  feet.  Down  he  went  again.  That  gave 
two  or  three  of  us  a  chance  to  send  some  lead  after  the 
beast.  He  got  a  wound  —  we  tracked  him  by  his  blood 
on  the  ground  —  we  could  see  it  plain  as  day  by  the  glare 
of  light  —  it  led  straight  towards  the  fire  that  was  running 
up  through  the  leaves  and  thickets  on  the  north.  I  ex- 
pected that  when  he  met  that  he  would  turn  again  ;  but 
he  did  not :  we  were  just  in  time  to  see  him  plough 
through  it,  and  hear  him  growl  and  snarl  at  the  flames 
that  maddened  him,  and  which  he  was  foolish  enough  to 
stop  and  fight.  Then  he  went  on  again.  We  followed. 
Nobody  minded  the  scorching.  We  kept  him  in  sight  till 
he  met  the  fire  again  —  for  it  was  now  all  around  us. 
This  time  his  heart  failed  him  ;  he  turned  back  only  to 
meet  us  and  get  a  handful  of  bullets  in  his  head.  That 
finished  him,  and  he  fell  dead." 


288 


"  Poor  brute  !  "  said  Mr.  Yillars  ;  "  he  found  his  human 
enemies  more  merciless  than  the  fire  !  " 

"  That's  so,"  said  Pomp,  with  a  smile.  "  But  we  had 
not  much  time  to  moralize  on  the  subject  then.  The  fire 
we  had  leaped  through  had  become  impassable  behind  us. 
The  men  hurried  this  way  and  that  to  find  an  outlet. 
They  found  only  the  fire  —  it  was  on  every  side  of  us  like 
a  sea  —  the  spot  where  we  were  was  only  an  island  in  the 
midst  of  it  —  that  too  would  soon  be  covered.  The  bear 
was  forgotten  where  he  lay;  the  men  grew  wild  with 
excitement,  as  again  and  again  they  attempted  to  break 
through  different  parts  of  the  ring  that  was  narrowing 
upon  us,  and  failed.  Brave  men  they  are,  but  death  by 
fire,  you  know,  is  too  horrible  !  " 

"  How  large  was  this  spot,  this  island  ?  "  asked  Penn. 

"  It  might  have  comprised  perhaps  twenty  acres  when 
we  first  found  ourselves  enclosed  in  it.  But  every  minute 
it  was  diminishing ;  and  the  heat  there  was  something 
terrific.  The  men  were  rather  surprised,  after  trying  in 
vain  on  every  side  to  discover  a  break  in  the  circle  of  fire, 
to  come  back  and  find  me  calm. 

44 '  Gentlemen,'  said  I,  '  keep  cool.  I  understand  this 
ground  perhaps  better  than  you  do.  Don't  abandon 
your  game ;  you  have  lost  your  meal  and  potatoes,  and 
you  will  have  need  of  the  bear.' 

"  '  But  what  is  the  use  of  roast  meat,  if  we  are  to 
be  roasted  too  ? '  said  Withers,  who  will  always  be 
droll,  whatever  happens. 


REFUGE.  289 

"  Then  Stackridge  spoke.  He  proposed  that  they  should 
place  themselves  under  my  command ;  for  I  knew  the 
woods,  and  while  they  had  been  running  to  and  fro  in 
disorder,  I  had  been  carefully  observing  the  ground, 
and  forming  my  plans.  I  laughed  within  myself  to  see 
Deslow  alone  hang  back ;  he  was  unwilling  to  owe  hif 
life  to  one  of  my  complexion  —  one  who  had  been  t 
slave.  For  there  are  men,  do  you  know,"  said  Pomp 
with  a  smile  of  mingled  haughtiness  and  pity,  "  wb 
would  rather  that  even  their  country  should  perish  tha 
owe  in  any  measure  its  salvation  to  the  race  they  hav. 
always  hated  and  wronged  !  " 

"  I  trust,"  said  Mr.  Villars,  "  that  you  had  the  noble 
satisfaction  of  teaching  these  men  the  lesson  which  our 
country  too  must  learn  before  it  can  be  worthy  to  be 
saved." 

"  I  showed  them  that  even  the  despised  black  may 
under  God's  providence,  be  of  some  use  to  white  men, 
besides  being  their  slave  :  I  had  that  satisfaction !  " 
said  Pomp,  proudly  smiling.  "  Stackridge  was  right : 
I  had  observed  :  I  saw  what  I  could  do.  On  one  side 
was  a  chasm  which  you  know,  Mr.  Hapgood." 

"  Yes  !  I  had  thought  of  it !  But  I  knew  it  was  in 
the  midst  of  the  burning  forest,  and  never  supposed 
you  could  get  to  it." 

"  The  fire  was  beyond  ;    and  it  also  burned  a  little 
on  the  side  nearest  to  us.     But  the  vegetation  there  is 
25 


290  REFUGE. 

thin,  you  remember.  The  chasm  could  be  reached  with- 
out difficulty. 

"  '  Follow  me  who  will ! '  said  I.  '  The  rest  are  at 
liberty  to  shirk  for  themselves.' 

"  '  Follow  —  where  ?  '  said  Deslow.  I  couldn't  help 
smiling  at  the  man's  distress.  All  the  rest  were  pre- 
pared to  obey  my  directions ;  and  it  was  hard  for  him 
to  separate  himself  from  them.  But  it  seemed  harder 
still  for  him  to  trust  in  me.  I  was  not  a  Moses  ;  I  could 
not  take  them  through  that  Red  Sea.  What  then  ? 

"  I  made  for  the  chasm.  All  followed,  even  Deslow, — • 
dragging  and  lugging  the  bear.  We  came  to  the  brink. 
The  place,  I  must  confess,  had  an  awful  look,  in  the 
light  of  the  trees  burning  all  around  it !  Deslow  was 
not  the  only  one  who  shrank  back  then  ;  for  though  the 
spot  was  known  to  some  of  them,  they  had  never  ex- 
plored it,  and  could  not  guess  what  it  led  to.  It  was  diffi- 
cult, hi  the  first  place,  to  descend  into  it ;  it  looked  still 
more  difficult  ever  to  get  out  again  ;  and  there  was  noth- 
ing to  prevent  the  burning  limbs  above  from  falling  into 
it,  or  the  trees  that  grew  in  it  from  catching  fire.  For 
this  is  the  sink,  Mr.  Villars,  which  you  have  probably 
heard  of,  —  where  the  woods  have  been  undermined  by 
the  action  of  water  in  the  limestone  rocks,  and  an 
acre  or  more  of  the  mountain  has  fallen  in,  with  all  its 
trees,  so  that  what  was  once  the  roof  of  an  immense 
cavern  is  now  a  little  patch  of  the  forest  growing 
seventy  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth  The  sides 


291 


are  precipitous  and  projecting.  Only  one  tree  throws  a 
strong  branch  upwards  to  the  edge  of  the  sink. 

"  '  This  way,  gentlemen,'  said  I,  '  and  you  are  safe  ! ' 

It  was  a  trial  of  their  faith ;  for  I  waited  to  explain 
nothing.  First,  I  tumbled  the  bear  off  the  brink.  We 
heard  him  go  crashing  down  into  the  abyss,  and  strike 
the  bottom  with  a  sound  full  of  awfulness  to  the  un- 
initiated. Then,  with  my  rifle  swung  on  my  back,  I 
seized  the  limb,  and  threw  myself  into  the  tree. 

"  '  Where  he  can  go,  we  can ! '  I  heard  Stackridge 
say  ;  and  he  followed  me.  I  took  his  gun,  and  handed 
it  to  him  again  when  he  was  safe  in  the  tree.  He  did 
the  same  for  another ;  and  so  all  got  into  the  branches, 
and  climbed  down  after  us.  The  trunk  has  no  limbs 
within  twenty  feet  of  the  bottom,  but  there  is  a  smaller 
tree  leaning  into  it  which  we  got  into,  and  so  reached  the 
ground. 

" '  Now,  gentlemen,'  said  I,  when  all  were  down,  '  I 
will  show  you  where  you  are.'  And  opening  the  bushes, 
I  discovered  a  path  leading  down  the  rocks  into  the 
caverns,  of  which  this  cave  is  only  a  branch.  Then  I 
made  them  all  take  an  oath  never  to  betray  the  secret 
of  what  I  had  shown  them.  Then  I  lighted  one  of  the 
torches  Cudjo  and  I  keep  for  our  convenience  when  we 
come  in  that  way,  and  gave  it  to  them ;  lighted  another 
for  my  own  use  ;  invited  them  to  make  themselves  quite 
at  home  in  my  absence  ;  left  them  to  their  reflections  ;  — 
and  here  I  am." 


292  REFUGE. 

Still  the  mystery  with  regard  to  the  unknown  horse- 
man was  in  no  wise  explained.  Pomp,  informed  of  what 
had  happened,  arose  hastily.  Penn  followed  him  from 
the  cave.  Pepperill  accompanied  them,  to  show  the  way. 
It  was  raining  steadily  ;  but  the  thickets  in  which  lay 
the  dead  horse  and  his  rider  were  burning  still. 

"  As  I  was  going  to  Stackridge's  camp,"  said  Pomp, 
"  I  thought  I  saw  a  man  crawling  over  the  rocks  above 
where  the  horse  was  tied.  I  ran  up  to  find  him,  but  he 
was  gone.  Peace  to  his  ashes,  if  it  was  he  !  " 

"  Won't  be  much  o'  the  cuss  left  but  ashes  !  "  re- 
marked Pepperill. 

Pomp  ascended  the  ledges,  and  stood,  silent  and  stem, 
gazing  at  the  destruction  of  his  beloved  woods. 

The  winds  had  died.  The  fires  had  evidently  ceased  to 
spread.  Portions  of  the  forest  that  had  been  kindled 
and  not  consumed  were  burning  now  with  slow,  sullen 
combustion,  like  brands  without  flame.  Stripped  of  their 
foliage,  shorn  of  then-  boughs,  and  seen  in  the  dull  and 
smoky  daylight,  through  the  rain,  they  looked  like  a 
forest  of  skeletons,  all  of  glowing  coal,  brightening, 
darkening,  and  ever  crumbling  away. 

All  at  once  Pomp  seemed  to  rouse  himself,  and 
direct  his  attention  more  particularly  at  the  part  of  the 
tv-oods  in  which  the  patriots'  camp  had  been. 

"  Come  with  me,  Pepperill.  if  you  would  help  do  a 
good  job  !  " 

They  started  off,  and  were  soon  out  of  sight.     As  Penn 


293 


turned  from  gazing  after  them,  he  heard  a  voice  calling 
from  the  opposite  side  of  the  ravine.  He  looked,  but 
could  see  no  one.  The  figure  to  which  the  voice  belonged 
was  hidden  by  the  bushes.  The  bushes  moved,  however ; 
the  figure  was  descending  into  the  ravine.  It  arrived  at 
the  bottom,  crossed,  and  began  to  ascend  the  steep  side 
towards  the  cave.  Penn  concealed  himself,  and  waited 
until  it  had  nearly  emerged  from  the  thickets  beneath 
him,  and  he  could  distinctly  hear  the  breath  of  a  man 
panting  and  blowing  with  the  toil  of  climbing.  Then  a 
well-known  voice  said  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  — 

"  Massa  Hapgood  !    dat  you  ?  " 

And  peering  over  the  bank,  he  saw,  upturned  in  the 
rain  and  murky  light,  among  the  wet  bushes,  the  black, 
grinning  face  of  old  Toby. 

He  responded  by  reaching  down,  grasping  the  negro's 
hand,  and  drawing  him  up. 

The  grin  on  the  old  man's  face  was  a  ghastly  one,  and 
his  eyes  rolled  as  he  stammered  forth,  — 

"  Miss  Jinny  —  ye  seen  Miss  Jinny?" 

Penn  did  not.  answer  immediately  ;  he  was  considering 
whether  it  would  be  safe  to  conduct  Toby  into  the  cave. 
Toby  grew  terrified. 

"  Don't  say  ye  hain't  seen  her,  Massa  Penn !  ye  kill 
ol'  Toby  if  ye  do !  I  done  lost  her !  "  And  the  poor 
old  faithful  fellow  sobbed  out  his  story,  —  how  Virginia 
had  disappeared,  and  how,  on  discovering  the  woods  to 
be  on  fire,  he  had  set  out  in  search  of  her,  and  been  wan- 
95  # 


294  REFUGE. 

dering  he  scarcely  knew  where  ever  since.  "  Now  don't 
say  ye  don't  know  nuffin'  about  her !  don't  say  dat !  " 
falling  on  his  knees,  and  reaching  up  his  hands  beseech- 
ingly, as  if  he  had  only  to  prevail  on  Penn  to  say  that  all 
was  well  with  "  Miss  Jinny,''  and  that  would  make  it  so. 
Such  faith  is  in  simple  souls. 

"  I'll  say  anything  you  wish  me  to,  good  old  Toby ! 
only  give  me  a  chance." 

"  Den  say  you  has  seen  her." 

"  I  has  seen  her,"  repeated  Penn. 

"  O,  bress  you,  Massa  Penn  !  And  she  ar  safe  —  say 
dat  too !  " 

"  She  ar  safe"  said  Penn,  laughing. 

"  Bress  ye  for  dat !  "  And  Toby,  weeping  with  joy, 
kissed  the  young  man's  hand  again  and  again.  "  And  ye 
knows  whar  she  ar  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Toby  !  So  now  get  up  :  don't  be  kneeling  on 
the  rocks  here  in  the  rain  !  " 

"  Jes'  one  word  more  !  Say  ye  got  her  and  ol'  Massa 
Villars  safe  stowed  away,  and  ye'll  take  me  to  see  'em : 
den  dis  ol'  nigger  '11  bress  you  and  de  Lord  and  dem,  and 
be  willin'  fur  to  die  !  only  say  dat,  massa  !  " 

"  Ah  !  did  I  promise  to  say  all  you  wished  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  did,  you  did  so,  Massa  Penn  !  "  cried  Toby, 
triumphantly. 

"  Then  I  suppose  I  must  say  that,  too.  So  come,  you 
dear  old  simpleton  \  Cudjo !  "  to  the  proprietor  of  the 
cave,  who  just  then  put  out  his  head  to  reconnoitre, 


REFUGE.  295 

"  Cudjo !  Here  is  your  friend  Toby,  come  to  pay  his 
master  and  mistress  a  visit !  " 

"  What  business  he  got  hyar  ?  "  said  Cudjo,  crossly. 
"  We's  hab  all  de  wuld,  and  creation  besides,  comin' 
bime-by ! " 

"  Cudjo!  You  knows  ol'  Toby,  Cudjo !  "  said  Toby,  in 
the  softest  and  most  conciliatory  tone  imaginable. 

"  Nose  ye  !  "  Cudjo  snuffed  disdainfully.  "  Yes  !  and 
wish  you'd  keep  fudder  off!  " 

"  Why,  Cudjo  !  don't  you  'member  Toby  ?  Las'  time 
I  seed  you  !  ye  'member  dat,  Cudjo  !  " 

"  Don't  'member  nuffi.ii' !  " 

"  'Twan't  you,  den,  got  inter  my  winder,  and  done 
skeert  me  mos'  t'  def  'fore  I  found  out  'twas  my  ol' 
'quaintance  Cudjo,  come  fur  Massa  Penn's  clo'es  !  Dat 
ar  wan't  you,  hey  ? "  And  Toby's  honest  indignation 
cropped  out  through  the  thin  crust  of  deprecating  obse- 
quiousness which  he  still  thought  it  politic  to  maintain. 

Perm  got  under  the  shelter  of  the  ledge,  and  waited 
for  the  dispute  to  end.  It  was  evident  to  him  that  Cudjo 
was  not  half  so  ill-natured  as  he  appeared  ;  but,  feeling 
himself  in  a  position  of  something  like  official  impor- 
tance, he  had  the  human  weakness  to  wish  to  make  the 
most  of  it. 

"  Your  massa  and  missis  bery  well  off.  Dey  in  my 
house.  No  room  dar  for  you.  Ain't  wanted  hyar,  no- 
how ! "  turning  his  back  very  much  like  a  personage  of 
lighter  complexion,  clad  in  brief  authority. 


296 


"  Ain't  wanted,  Cudjo  r  You  don't  know  what  you's 
sayin'  now.  Whar  my  ol'  raassa  and  young  missis  is,  dar 
ol'  Toby's  wanted.  Can't  lib  widout  me,  dey  can't !  Ol' 
massa  wants  me  to  nuss  him.  Ye  don't  tink  —  you's  a 
nigger  widout  no  kind  ob  'sideration,  Cudjo." 

"  Talk  o'  you  nussin'  him  when  him's  got  Pomp  !  " 

"  Pomp  !  what  can  Pomp  do  ?  Wouldn't  trust  him  to 
nuss  a  chick  sicken ! "  Toby  talked  backwards  in  his 
excitement. 

"  Ki !  didn't  him  take  Massa  Hapgood  and  make  him 
well  ?  Don't  ye  know  nuffin'  ?  " 

Toby  seemed  staggered  for  a  moment.  But  he  rallied 
quickly,  and  said,  — 

"  He  cure  Massa  Hapgood  r  He  done  jes'  nuffin'  't  all 
fur  him.  De  fac's  is,  I  had  de  nussin'  en  him  for  a  spell 
at  fust,  and  gib  him  a  start.  Dar's  ebery  ting  in  a  start, 
Cudjo." 

"  O,  what  a  stupid  nigger  !  "  said  Cudjo.  '  Hyar's 
Massa  Hapgood  hisself !  leab  it  to  him  now  !  " 

"  You  are  both  right,"  said  Penn.  "  Toby  did  nurse 
me,  and  give  me  a  good  start ;  for  which  I  shall  always 
thank  him." 

"  Dar !  tol'  ye  so,  tol'  ye  so  !  "  said  Toby. 

"  But  it  was  Pomp  who  afterwards  cured  me,"  added 
Penn. 

"  Dar !  tol'  you  so  !  "  cried  Cudjo,  while  Toby's  coun- 
tenance fell. 

"  For  while   Toby  is  a  capital  nurse  "  (Toby  bright- 


REFUGE.  297 

ened),  "Pomp  is  a  first-rate  doctor"  (Cudjo  grinned). 
"  So  don't  dispute  any  more.  Shake  hands  with  your  old 
friend,  Cudjo,  and  show  him  into  your  house." 

Cudjo  was  still  reluctant ;  but  just  then  occurred  a 
pleasing  incident,  which  made  him  feel  good-natured 
towards  everybody.  Pomp  and  Pepperill  arrived,  bring- 
ing the  bag  of  meal  and  the  basket  of  potatoes  which  the 
bear-hunters  had  forsaken  in  the  woods,  and  which  the 
rain  had  preserved  from  the  fire. 


298  LTSANDER    TAKES    POSSESSION. 


XXXT. 


LTSANDEE    TAKES    POSSESSION. 


AD  the  "  Sleeper"  (he  had  earned  that  title) 
had  been  himself  placed  under  guard  for 
drinking  too  much  of  the  prisoners'  liquor, 
and  suffering  them  to  escape.  Miserable,  sullen,  thirsty, 
he  languished  in  confinement. 

"  Let  'em  shoot  me,  and  done  with  it,  if  that's  the 
penalty,"  said  this  chivalrous  son  of  the  south  ;  "  only 
give  a  feller  suthin'  to  drink !  " 

But  that  policy  of  the  confederates,  which  opened  the 
jails  of  the  country,  and  put  arms  in  the  hands  of  th^ 
convicts,  and  pardoned  every  felon  that  would  fight, 
might  be  expected  to  find  a  better  use  for  an  able-bodied 
fellow,  like  Gad,  than  to  shoot  him. 

The  use  they  found  for  him  was  this  :  He  had  been 
a  mighty  hunter  before  the  Lord,  ere  he  became  too  be- 
sotted and  lazy  for  such  sport ;  and  he  professed  to  know 
the  mountains  better  than  any  other  man.  Accord- 
ingly, on  the  recommendation  of  his  friend  Lieutenant 


LYSANDER    TAKES   POSSESSION.  299 

Ropes,  it  was  resolved  to  send  him  to  spy  out  the  po- 
sition of  the  patriots.  It  was  an  enterprise  of  some  dan- 
ger, and,  to  encourage  him  in  it,  he  was  promised  two 
things  —  pardon  for  his  offence,  and,  what  was  of  more 
importance  to  him,  a  hottle  of  old  whiskey. 

"  I'll  see  that  you  have  light  enough,"  said  Ropes, 
significantly. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  firing  of  the  forests.  How 
well  the  lieutenant  fulfilled  his  part  of  the  engagement, 
we  have  seen. 

Gad  put  the  bottle  in  his  pocket,  and  set  off  at  dark  by 
routes  obscure  and  circuitous  to  get  upon  the  trail  of  the 
patriots.  How  well  lie  succeeded  will  appear  by  and  by. 

The  burning  of  the  forests  caused  a  great  excitement 
in  the  valley,  especially  among  those  families  whose  hus- 
bands and  fathers  were  known  to  have  taken  refuge  in 
them.  Who  had  committed  the  barbarous  act  ?  The 
confederates  denounced  it  with  virtuous  indignation, 
charging  the  patriots  with  it,  of  course.  There  was  in 
the  village  but  one  witness  who  could  have  disputed  this 
charge,  and  he  now  occupied  Gad's  place  in  the  guard- 
house. It  was  the  deserter  Carl. 

All  the  morning  Gad's  return  was  anxiously  awaited. 
No  doubt  there  were  good  reasons  why  he  did  not  come. 
So  said  his  friend  Silas ;  and  his  friend  Silas  was  right : 
there  were  good  reasons. 

"  Anyhow,  I  kep'  my  word  —  I  giv  him  light  enough, 
I  reckon  !  "  chuckled  Silas. 


300  LYSANDER    TAKES   POSSESSION. 

That  was  true  :  Gad  had  had  light  enough,  and  tc 
spare. 

The  rain  continued  all  the  morning.  Perhaps  that  was 
what  detained  the  scout ;  for  it  was  known  that  he  had 
a  great  aversion  4o  water. 

In  the  afternoon  came  one  with  tidings  from  the 
mountain.  It  was  not  Gad.  It  was  old  Toby. 

He  was  seized  by  some  soldiers  and  taken  before  Cap- 
tain Sprowl,  at  the  school-house. 

"  Toby,  you  black  devil,  where  have  you  been  ? " 
This  was  Lysander's  chivalrous  way  of  addressing  an 
inferior  whom  he  wished  to  terrify. 

Now,  if  there  was  a  person  in  the  world  whom  Toby 
detested,  it  was  this  roving  Lysander,  who  had  disgraced 
the  Villars  family  by  marrying  into  it.  However,  he  con- 
cealed his  contempt  with  a  politic  hypocrisy  worthy  of 
a  whiter  skin. 

"  Please,  sar,"  said  the  old  negro,  cap  in  hand,  "  I'se 
been  lookin'  for  my  ol'  massa  and  my  young  missis." 

"  Well,  what  luck,  you  lying  scoundrel  ?  " 

"  O,  no  luck  't  all,  I  'sure  you,  sar  !  " 

"  What !  couldn't  you  find  'em  ?  Don't  you  lie,  you 

."  (We  may  as  well  omit  the  captain's  energetic 

epithets.) 

"  O,  sar  !  "  —  Toby  looked  up  earnestly  with  counter- 
feit grief  in  his  wrinkled  old  face,  —  "  dey  ain't  nowbare 
on  de  face  ob  de  'arth  !  " 

"  Not  ou  the  face  of  the  earth !  " 


LTSANDER    TAKES   POSSESSION.  301 

"  If  dey  is,  den  de  fire's  done  burnt  'em  all  up.  I 
seen,  down  in  a  big  holler,  a  place  \vhar  somebody's  been 
burnt,  shore  !  Dar's  a  man,  and  a  hoss  on  top  on  him, 
and  de  boss's  har  am  all  burnt  off,  and  de  man's  trouse's- 
legs  am  all  burnt  off  too,  and  one  foot 's  got  a  fried  boot 
onto  it,  and  tudder  han't  got  nuffin'  on,  but  jes'  de  skin 
and  bone  all  roasted  to  a  crisp ;  and  I  'specs  dar's  'nuff 
sight  more  dead  folks  down  in  dar,  on'y  I  didn't  da's  to 
look,  it  make  me  feel  so  skeerylike  !  " 

All  which,  and  much  more,  Toby  related  so  circum- 
stantially, that  Captain  Sprowl  was  strongly  impressed 
with  the  truth  of  the  story.  Great,  therefore,  was  the 
joy  of  the  captain.  Perhaps  the  patriots  had  been 
destroyed  :  he  hoped  so !  Still  more  ardently  he  hoped 
that  Virginia  had  perished  with  her  father.  For  was  he 
not  the  husband  of  Salina  ?  and  the  snug  Kttle  Villars 
property,  did  he  not  covet  it  ? 

"  Can  you  show  me  that  spot,  Toby?" 

"  '  Don'o',  sar  :  I  specs  I  could,  sar." 

"  Don't  you  forget  about  it !  Now,  Toby,  go  home  to 
your  mistress,  —  my  wife  's  your  mistress,  you  know,  — 
and  wait  till  you  are  wanted." 

"  Yes,  sar,"  —  bowing,  and  pulling  his  foretop. 

Captain  Sprowl  did  not  overhear  the  irrepressible 
chuckle  of  satisfaction  in  which  the  old  negro  indulged 
as  he  retired,  or  he  would  have  perceived  that  he  had 
been  trifled  with.  We  are  apt  to  be  extremely  credulous 
when  listening  to  what  we  wish  to  believe ;  and  Lysan- 
26 


302  LYSANDER    TAKES    POSSESSION. 

der's  delight  left  no  room  in  his  heart  for  suspicion.  All 
he  desired  now  was  that  Gad  should  appear  and  confirm 
Toby's  report  ;  for  surely  Gad  must  know  something 
about  the  dead  horse  and  the  dead  man  under  him ;  and 
why  did  not  the  fellow  return  ? 

As  for  Toby,  he  hastened  home  as  fast  as  his  tired 
old  legs  could  carry  him,  chuckling  all  the  way  over  his 
lucky  escape,  and  the  cunning  answers  by  which  he  had 
mystified  the  captain  without  telling  a  downright  false- 
hood. "  Ob  course,  dey  ain't  on  de  face  ob  de  'arth, 
long  as  dey's  inside  on't !  Hi,  hi,  hi !  " 

He  did  not  greatly  relish  reporting  himself  to  Salina  : 
nevertheless,  he  had  been  ordered  to  do  so,  not  only  by 
the  captain,  but  by  those  whose  authority  he  respected 
more. 

Salina,  though  so  bitter,  was  not  without  natural  affec- 
tion, and  she  had  suffered  much  and  waited  anxiously 
ever  since  Toby,  terrified  into  the  avowal  of  his  belief 
that  Virginia  was  in  the  burning  woods,  had  set  out  in 
search  of  her.  She  was  not  patient ;  she  was  wanting  in 
religious  trust.  She  had  not  slept.  All  night  and  all 
day  she  had  tortured  herself  with  terrible  fancies.  In- 
stead of  calming  her  spirit  with  prayer,  she  had  kept  it 
irritated  with  spiteful  thoughts  against  what  she  deemed 
her  evil  destiny. 

There  are  certain  natures  to  which  every  misfortune 
brings  a  blessing ;  for,  whatever  it  may  take  away,  it  is 
sure  to  leave  that  divine  influence  which  comes  from 


LYSANDER    TAKES    POSSESSION.  303 

resignation  and  a  deepened  sense  of  reliance  upon  God. 
Such  a  nature  was  the  old  clergyman's.  Every  blow  his 
heart  had  received  had  softened  it ;  and  a  softened  heart 
is  a  well  of  interior  happiness  ;  it  is  more  precious  to  its 
possessor  than  all  outward  gifts  of  friends  and  fortune. 
Such  a  nature,  too,  Mras  Virginia's.  She  too,  through  all 
things,  kept  warm  in  her  bosom  that  holy  instinct  of 
faith,  that  blessed  babe  named  Love,  ever  humbly  born, 
whose  life  within  is  a  light  that  transfigures  the  world. 
To  such,  despair  cannot  come ;  for  when  the  worst  arrives, 
when  all  they  cherished  is  gone,  heaven  is  still  left  to 
them  ;  and  they  look  up  and  smile.  To  them  sorrow  is 
but  a  preparation  for  a  diviner  joy.  All  things  indeed 
work  together  for  their  good  ;  since,  whether  fair  fortune 
comes,  or  ill,  they  possess  the  spiritual  alchemy  that  trans- 
mutes it  into  blessing. 

This  love,  this  faith,  Salina  lacked.  She  fostered  in 
their  place  that  selfishness  and  discontent  which  sour  the 
soul.  Every  blow  upon  her  heart  had  hardened  it 
Every  trial  embittered  and  angered  her.  Hence  the 
swollen  and  flaming  eyes,  the  impatient  and  scowling 
looks,  with  which  she  met  the  returning  Toby. 

"  Where  is  Virginia  ?  " 

"  Dat  I  can't  bery  well  say,  Miss  Salina,"  replied 
Toby,  scratching  his  woolly  head.  He  would  never  sac- 
rifice his  family  pride  so  far  as  to  call  her  Mrs.  Sprowl. 

"  How  dare  you  come  back  without  her  ?  "  And  she 
heaped  upon  him  the  bitterest  reproaches.  It  was  he 


304  LTSANDER    TAKES   POSSESSION. 

who,  through  his  cowardice,  had  been  the  cause  of  Vir- 
ginia's night  adventure.  It  was  he  who  had  ruined  every- 
thing by  concealing  her  departure  until  it  was  too  late. 
Then  he  might  have  found  her,  if  he  had  so  resolved. 
But  if  he  could  not,  why  had  he  remained  absent  all  day  ? 
Under  this  sharp  foe  of  accusations  Toby  stood  with 
ludicrous  indifference,  grinning,  and  scratching  his  head. 
At  length  he  scratched  out  of  it  a  little  roll  of  paper  that 
had  been  confided  to  his  wool  for  safe  keeping,  in  case  he 
should  be  seized  and  searched.  It  fell  upon  the  floor. 
He  hastily  snatched  it  up,  and  gave  it,  with  obsequious 
alacrity,  to  Mrs.  Sprowl.  She  took,  unrolled  it,  and  read. 
It  was  a  pencilled  note  in  the  handwriting  of  Virginia. 

"  DEAE  SISTER  :  Thanks  to  a  kind  Providence  and  to 
kind  friends,  we  are  safe.  I  was  rescued  last  night  from 
the  most  frightful  dangers  in  the  burning  woods.  I  had 
come,  without  your  knowledge,  to  get  news  of  our  dear 
father.  I  am  now  with  him.  He  has  excellent  shelter, 
and  devoted  attendants  ;  but  the  comforts  of  his  home 
are  wanting,  and  I  have  learned  how  much  he  is  depend- 
ent upon  us  for  his  happiness.  For  this  reason  I  shall 
remain  with  him  as  long  as  I  can.  To  relieve  your  mind 
we  send  Toby  back  to  you.  V." 

That  evening  Captain  Sprowl  entered  the  house  of  the 
absent  Mr.  Villars  with  the  air  of  one  who  had  just  come 
into  possession  of  that  little  piece  of  property.  He  nod- 
ded with  satisfaction  at  the  walls,  glanced  approvingly  at 


LYSANDER    TAKES   POSSESSTOy.  305 

the  furniture,  curved  his  lip  rather  contemptuously  at  the 
books  (as  much  as  to  say,  "  I'll  sell  off  all  that  sort  of 
rubbish"),  and  expressed  decided  pleasure  at  sight  of  old 
Toby.  "  Worth  eight  hundred  dollars,  that  nigger  is  !  " 
He  had  either  forgotten  that  Mr.  Villars  had  given  Toby 
his  freedom,  or  he  believed  that,  under  the  new  order  of 
things,  in  a  confederacy  founded  on  slavery,  such  gifts 
would  not  be  held  valid. 

"  Well,  Sallie,  my  girl,"  —  throwing  himself  into  the 
old  clergyman's  easy  chair,  —  "  here  we  are  at  home  ! 
Bring  me  the  bootjack,  Toby." 

"  I  don't  know  about  your  being  at  home  !  "  said 
Salina,  indignantly. 

And  it  was  evident  that  Toby  did  not  know  about 
bringing  the  bootjack.  He  looked  as  if  he  would  have 
preferred  to  jerk  the  chair  from  beneath  the  sprawling 
Lysander,  and  break  it  over  him. 

"  I  suppose  Toby  has  told  you  the  nev;s  ?  Awful 
news  !  a  fearful  dispensation  of  Providence  !  Pepperill 
came  in  this  afternoon  and  confirmed  it.  We  thought 
he  had  deserted,  but  it  appears  he  had  only  got  lost  in 
the  woods.  He  reports  some  dead  bodies  in  a  ravine,  and 
his  account  tallies  very  well  with  Toby's.  We'll  wear 
mourning,  of  course,  Sallie." 

Lysander  stroked  his  chin.  Mrs.  Lysander  tapped  the 
floor  with  her  impatient  foot,  gnawed  her  lip,  and  scowled. 

"  Come,  my  dear  !  "  said  the  captain,  coaxingly  ;  "  we 
may  as  well  understand  each  other.  Times  is  changed. 
26* 


306  LYSANDER    TAKES   POSSESSION. 

I  tell  ye,  I'm  going  to  be  one  of  the  big  men  under  the 
new  government.  Now,  Sal,  see  here.  I'm  your  hus- 
band, and  there's  no  getting  away  from  it.  And  what's 
the  use  of  getting  away  from  it,  even  if  we  could  ? 
Let's  settle  down,  and  be  respectable.  We've  had  quar- 
rels enough,  and  I've  got  tired  of  'em.  Toby,  why  don't 
you  bring  that  bootjack  ?  " 

Lysander  swung  his  chair  around  towards  Salina.  She 
turned  hers  away  from  him,  still  knitting  her  brows  and 
gnawing  that  disdainful  lip. 

"  Now  what's  the  use,  Sal  ?  Since  the  way  is  opened 
for  us  to  live  together  again,  why  can't  you  make  up  your 
mind  to  it,  let  bygones  be  bygones,  and  begin  life  over 
again  ?  When  I  was  a  poor  devil,  dodging  the  officers, 
and  never  daring  to  see  you  except  in  the  dark,  I  couldn't 
blame  you  for  feeling  cross  with  me  ;  for  it  was  a  cursed 
miserable  state  of  things.  But  you're  a  captain's  wife 
now.  You'll  be  a  general's  wife  by  and  by.  I  shall  be 
off  fighting  the  battles  of  my  country,  and  you'll  be  proud 
to  hear  of  my  exploits." 

Salina  was  touched.  Weary  of  the  life  she  led,  mor- 
bidly eager  for  change,  she  was  a  secessionist  from  the 
first,  and  had  welcomed  the  war.  Moreover,  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  she  loved  this  worthless  Lysander.  She  hated 
him  for  the  misery  he  had  caused  her ;  she  was  exceed- 
ingly bitter  against  him  ;  yet  love  lurked  under  all.  She 
was  secretly  proud  to  see  him  a  captain.  It  was  hard  to 
forgive  him  for  all  the  wrongs  she  had  suffered  ;  but  her 
heart  was  lonely,  and  it  yearned  for  reconciliation.  Her 


LYSANDER    TAKES    POSSESSION.  3l>7 

scornful  lip  quivered,  and  there  was  a  convulsive  move- 
ment in  her  throat. 

"Go  away!''  she  exclaimed,  violently,  as  he  ap- 
proached to  caress  her.  "I  am  as  unhappy  as  I  can  be  ! 
O,  if  I  had  never  seen  you  !  Why  do  you  come  to  tor- 
ture me  now  ? " 

This  passion  pleased  Lysander  :  it  was  a  sign  that  her 
spirit  was  breaking.  He  caught  her  in  his  arms,  called 
her  pet  names,  laughed,  and  kissed  her.  And  this  wo- 
man, after  all,  loved  to  be  called  pet  names,  and  kissed. 

"  Toby  !  you  devil !  "  roared  Lysander,  "  why  don't 
you  bring  that  bootjack  ?  " 

The  old  negro  stood  behind  the  door,  with  the  bootjack 
in  his  hand,  furious,  ready  to  hurl  it  at  the  captain's  head. 
He  hesitated  a  moment,  then  turned,  discreetly,  and  flung 
it  out  of  the  kitchen  window. 

"  Ain't  a  bootjack  nowars  in  de  house,  sar  !  " 

"  Then  come  here  yourself !  " 

And  the  gay  captain  made  a  bootjack  of  the  old  negro. 

"  Now  shut  up  the  house  and  go  to  bed  ! "  he  said, 
dismissing  him  with  a  kick. 

After  Toby  had  retired,  and  Salina  had  wiped  her  eyes 
and  Lysander  had  got  his  feet  comfortably  installed  in  the 
old  clergyman's  slippers,  the  long-estranged  couple  grew 
affectionate  and  confidential. 

"  Law,  Sallie  !  "  said  the  captain,  caressingly,  "  we  can 
be  as  happy  as  two  pigs  in  clover ! "  And  he  pro- 
ceeded  to  interpret,  in  plain  prosaic  detail,  those  bliss- 
f d  possibilities  expressed  by  the  choice  poetic  figure. 


308  LYSANDER    TAK£S    POSSESSION. 

It  was  evident  to  Salina  that  all  his  domestic  plans 
were  founded  on  the  supposition  that  the  slippers  he  had 
on  were  the  dead  man's  shoes  he  had  been  waiting  for. 
Was  she  shocked  by  this  cold,  atrocious  spirit  of  calcula- 
tion ?  At  first  she  was  ;  but  since  she  had  begun  to  par- 
don his  faults,  she  could  easily  overlook  that.  She,  who 
had  lately  been  so  spiteful  and  bitter,  was  now  all  charity 
towards  this  man.  Even  the  image  of  her  blind  and  aged 
father  faded  from  her  mind  ;  even  the  pure  and  beautiful 
image  of  her  sister  grew  dim  ;  and  the  old,  revivified 
attachment  became  supreme.  Shall  we  condemn  the 
weakness  ?  Or  shall  we  pity  it,  rather  ?  So  long  her 
affections  had  been  thwarted !  So  long  she  had  carried 
that  lonely  and  hungry  heart  !  So  long,  like  a  starved, 
sick  child,  it  had  fretted  and  cried,  till  now,  at  last,  nur- 
ture and  warmth  made  it  grateful  and  glad  !  A  babe  is  a 
sacred  thing  ;  and  so  is  love.  But  if  you  starve  and  beat 
them  ?  Perhaps  Salina's  unhappiness  of  temper  owed  its 
development  chiefly  to  this  cause.  No  wonder,  then,  that 
Vfe  find  her  melancholy,  morbid,  unreasonable,  and  now 
so  ready  to  cling  again  to  this  wretch,  this  scamp,  her 
husband,  forgiving  all,  forgetting  all  (for  the  moment  at 
least),  in  the  wild  flood  of  love  and  tears  that  drowned 
the  past. 

"  0,  yes  !  I  do  think  we  can  be  happy  !  "  she  said  — 
"  if  you  will  only  be  kind  and  good  to  me  !  If  not  here, 
why,  then,  somewhere  else ;  for  place  is  of  no  conse- 
quence ;  all  I  want  is  love." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Lysander,  knocking  the  ashes  from   his 


L.TSANDER    TAKES   POSSESSION.  309 

cigar,  "  but  I  have  a  fancy  for  this  place  !  And  what 
should  we  leave  it  for  ?  " 

"  Because  —  you  know  —  there  is  no  certainty  —  I 
believe  father  is  alive  yet,  and  well." 

"  Xot  unless  Toby  lied  to  me  !  —  Did  he  ?  " 

"  Pshaw  !  you  can't  place  any  reliance  on  what  Toby 
says  !  "  —  evasively. 

"  But  I  tell  you  Pepperill  confirms  his  report  about  the 
dead  bodies  in  the  ravine  !  Now,  what  do  you  know  to 
*he  contrary  ?  Lysander  appeared  very  much  excited,  and 
a  quarrel  was  imminent.  Salina  dreaded  a  quarrel.  She 
broke  into  a  laugh. 

"  The  truth  is,  Toby  did  fool  you.  He  couldn't  help 
bragging  to  me  about  it." 

O  Toby,  Toby  !  that  little  innocent  vanity  of  yours  is 
destined  to  cost  you,  and  others  besides  you,  very  dear  ! 
Lysander  sprang  upon  his  feet ;  his  eyes  sparkled  with 
rage.  Salina  saw  that  it  was  now  too  late  to  keep  the 
secret  from  him  ;  there  was  no  way  but  to  tell  him  all. 
She  showed  Virginia's  note.  Virginia  and  her  father 
alive  and  safe  —  that  was  what  maddened  Lysander  ! 

But  where  were  they  ? 

Salina  could  not  answer  that  question  ;  for  the  most 
she  had  been  able  to  get  out  of  Toby  was  only  a  vague 
hint  that  they  were  hidden  somewhere  in  a  cave. 

"  No  matter  !  "  said  Lysander,  with  a  diabolical  laugh 
showing  his  clinched  and  tobacco-stained  teeth.  "  I'll 
have  the  nigger  licked  !  I'll  have  the  truth  out  of  him,  or 
I'll  have  his  life  ?  " 


810  TOBY'S   REWARD. 


XXXII. 


TOBY'S    REWARD. 


ILL  ED  with  disgust  and  wrath,  Toby  had 
obeyed  the  man  who  assumed  to  be  his  mas- 
ter, and  gone  to  bed.  But  he  was  scarcely 
asleep,  when  he  felt  somebody  shaking  him,  and  awoke 
to  see  bending  over  him,  with  smiling  countenance,  lamp 
in  hand,  Captain  Lysander. 

"  What's  wantin',  sar  ? " 

"  I  want  you  to  do  an  errand  for  me,  Toby,''  Lysandei* 
kindly  replied. 

"Wai,  sar,  I  don'o',  sar,"  said  Toby,  reluctant,  sit- 
ting up  in  bed  and  rubbing  his  elbows.  "  You  know  I 
had  a  right  smart  tramp.  I's  a  tuckered-out  nigger,  sar ; 
dat's  de  troof." 

"  Yes,  you  had  a  hard  time,  Toby.  But  you'll  just  run 
over  to  the  school-house  for  me,  I  know.  That's  a  good 
fellow !  " 

Toby  hardly  knew  what  to  make  of  Lysander' s  ex- 
traordinarily persuasive  and  indulgent  manner.  He  didn't 


TOBY'S   REWARD.  311 

know  before  that  a  Sprowl  could  smile  so  pleasantly,  and 
behave  so  much  like  a  gentleman.  Then,  the  captain  had 
called  him  a  good  fellow,  and  his  African  soul  was  not 
above  flattery.  Weary,  sleepy  as  he  was,  he  felt  strongly 
inclined  to  get  up  out  of  his  delicious  bed,  and  go  and  do 
Lysander's  errand. 

"  You've  only  to  hand  this  note  to  Lieutenant  Ropes. 
And  I'll  give  you  something  when  you  come  back — some- 
thing you  don't  get  every  day,  Toby  !  Something  you've 
deserved,  and  ought  to  have  had  long  ago  ! "  And  Ly- 
sander,  all  smiles,  patted  the  old  servant's  shoulder. 

This  was  too  much  for  Toby.  He  laughed  with  pleas- 
ure, got  up,  pulled  on  his  clothes,  took  the  note,  and 
started  off  with  alacrity,  to  convince  the  captain  that  he 
merited  all  the  good  that  was  said  of  him,  and  that  in- 
definite "  something"  besides. 

What  could  that  something  be  ?  He  thought  of  many 
things  by  the  way :  a  dollar ;  a  knife ;  a  new  pair  of 
boots  with  red  tops,  such  as  Lysander  himself  wore ;  — 
which  last  item  reminded  him  of  the  bootjrck  he  had 
been  used  for,  and  the  kick  he  had  receive  \. 

He  stopped  in  the  street,  his  wrath  n  sing  up  again 
at  the  recollection.  "Good  mind  ter  go  lack,  and  not 
do  his  old  arrant."  But  then  he  thought  o c  th  smiles 
and  compliments,  and  the  promised  reward.  "  S<  mefin' 
kinder  decent  'bout  dat  mis'ble  Sprowl,  'long  •  fid  «  heap 
o'  mean  tings,  arter  all !  "  And  he  started  on  a^ain. 

Lvsander's  note  was  in  these  words :  — 


312  TOBY'S   REWARD. 

"  Leiutent  Ropes  Send  me  with  the  bearrer  of  This  2 
Btrappin  felloes  capble  of  doin  a  touhgh  Job." 

This  letter  was  duly  signed,  and  duly  delivered,  and  it 
brought  the  "  2  strappin  felloes."  The  internal  evidence 
it  bore,  that  Lysander  had  not  pursued  his  studies  at 
school  half  as  earnestly  as  he  had  of  late  pursued  the 
schoolmaster,  made  no  difference  with  the  result. 

The  two  strapping  fellows  returned  with  Toby.  They 
were  raw  recruits,  who  had  travelled  a  long  distance  on 
foot  in  order  to  enlist  in  the  confederate  ranks.  They 
had  an  unmistakable  foreign  air.  They  called  themselves 
Germans.  They  were  brothers. 

"  All  right,  Toby ! "  said  Lysander,  well  pleased. 
"  What  are  you  bowing  and  grinning  at  me  for  ?  O,  I 
was  to  give  you  something  !  " 

"If  you  please,  sar,"  said  Toby  —  wretched,  deceived, 
cajoled,  devoted  Toby. 

"  Well,  you  go  to  the  woodshed  and  bring  the  clothes 
line  for  these  fellows  —  to  make  a  swing  for  the  ladies, 
you  know  —  then  I'll  tell  you  what  you're  to  have." 

"  Sartin,  sar."     And  Toby  ran  for  the  clothes  line. 

"  Good  old  Toby !  Now,  what  you  have  deserved  so 
long,  and  what  these  stout  Dutchmen  will  proceed  to  give 
you,  is  the  damnedest  licking  you  ever  had  in  your  life!" 

Toby  almost  fainted ;  falling,  upon  his  knees,  and 
rolling  up  his  eyes  in  consternation.  Sprowl  smiled. 
The  "  Dutchmen"  grinned.  Just  then  Salina  darted  into 
the  room. 


TOBY'S    REWARD.  313 

"  Lysander !  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  old 
man  ? " 

She  put  the  demand  sharply,  her  short  upper  lip  quiv- 
ering, cheeks  flushed,  eyes  flaming. 

"  I'm  going  to  have  him  whipped." 

"  No,  you  are  not.  You  promised  me  you  wouldn't. 
You  told  me  that  if  he  would  go  to  the  Academy  for 
you,  and  be  respectful,  you  would  forgive  him.  If  I  had 
known  what  you  were  sending  for,  he  should  never  have 
left  this  house.  Now  send  those  men  back,  and  let 
him  go." 

"  Not  exactly,  my  lady.  I  am  master  in  this  house, 
whatever  turns  up.  I  am  this  nigger's  master,  too." 

"  You  are  not ;  you  never  were.  Toby  has  his  free- 
dom. He  shall  not  be  whipped  !  "  And  with  a  gesture 
of  authority,  and  with  a  stamp  of  her  foot,  Salina  placed 
herself  between  the  kneeling  old  servant  and  the  grinning 
brothers. 

Alas !  this  woman's  dream  of  love  and  happiness  had 
been  brief,  as  all  such  dreams,  false  in  their  very  nature, 
must  ever  be.  She  loved  him  well  enough  to  concede 
much.  She  was  not  going  to  quarrel  with  him  any  more. 
To  avoid  a  threatened  quarrel,  she  betrayed  Toby.  But 
she  was  not  heartless :  she  had  a  sense  of  justice,  pride, 
temper,  an  impetuous  will,  not  yet  given  over  in  perpe- 
tuity to  the  keeping  of  her  husband. 

The  captain  laughed  devilishly,  and  threw  his  arms 
about  his  wife  (this  time  in  no  loving  embrace),  and  eeiz- 
27 


314  TOUT'S   REWARD. 

ing  her  wrists,  held  them,  and  nodded  to  the  soldiers  A 
begin  their  work. 

They  laid  hold  of  Toby,  still  kneeling  and  pleading, 
bound  his  arms  behind  him  with  the  cord,  and  then 
looked  calmly  at  Lysander  for  instructions. 

"  Take  him  to  the  shed,"  said  the  captain.  "  One  of 
you  carry  this  light.  You  can  string  him  up  to  a  cross- 
beam. If  you  don't  understand  how  that's  done,  I'll  go 
and  show  you.  He's  to  have  twenty  lashes  to  begin 
with,  for  lying  to  me.  Then  he's  to  be  whipped  till  he 
tells  where  our  escaped  prisoners  are  hid  in  the  moun- 
tains. You  understand  ?  " 

"  Ve  unterstan,"  said  the  brothers,  coldly. 

Toby  groaned.  They  took  hold  of  him,  and  dragged 
him  away. 

"  Now  will  you  behave,  my  girl  ?  A  pretty  row  you're 
making  !  Ye  see  it's  no  use.  I  am  master.  The  nig- 
ger '11  only  get  it  the  worse  for  your  interference." 

Lysander  looked  insolently  in  his  wife's  face.  It 
was  livid. 

"  Hey  ?  "  he  said.     "  One  of  your  tantrums  ?  " 

He  placed  her  on  a  chair.  She  was  rigid ;  she  did  not 
speak ;  he  would  have  thought  she  was  in  a  fit  but  foi 
the  eyes  which  she  never  took  off  of  him  —  eyes  fixed 
with  deep,  unutterable,  deadly,  despairing  hate. 

"  I  reckon  you'll  behave  —  you'd  better !  "  he  said 
shaking  his  finger  warningly  at  her  as  he  retired  back 
wards  from  the  room. 


TOBY'S   REWARD.  315 

She  saw  the  door  close  behind  him.  She  did  not 
move :  her  eyes  were  still  fixed  on  that  door  :  heavy  and 
cold  as  stone,  she  sat  there,  and  gazed,  with  that  same 
look  of  unutterable  hate.  Perhaps  five  minutes.  Then 
she  heard  blows  and  shrieks.  Toby's  shrieks  :  he  had  no 
Carl  now  to  rush  in  and  cut  his  bands. 

The  twenty  lashes  for  lying  had  been  administered  on 
the  negro's  bare  back.  Then  Lysander  put  the  question : 
Was  he  prepared  to  tell  all  he  knew  about  the  fugitives 
and  the  cave  ? 

"  O,  pardon,  sar !  pardon,  sar !  "  the  old  man  im- 
plored ;  "I  can't  tell  ruflin',  dat  am  de  troof !  " 

"  Work  away,  boys,"  said  Lysander. 

Was  it  supposed  that  the  good  old  practice  of  applying 
torture  to  enforce  confession  had  long  since  been  done 
away  with  ?  A  great  mistake,  my  friend.  Driven  from 
that  ancient  stronghold  of  conservatism,  the  Spanish 
Inquisition,  it  found  refuge  in  this  modern  stronghold  of 
conservatism,  American  Slavery.  Here  the  records  of  its 
deeds  are  written  on  many  a  back. 

But  Toby  was  not  a  slave.  No  matter  for  that.  For 
in  the  school  of  slavery,  this  is  the  lesson  that  soon  or 
late  is  learned :  Not  simply  that  there  are  two  castes, 
freeman  and  slave  ;  two  races,  white  and  black ;  but  thai 
there  are  two  great  classes,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  tha 
strong  and  the  weak,  the  lord  and  the  laborer,  one  born 
to  rule,  and  the  other  to  be  ruled.  All,  who  are  not 
masters,  are,  or  ought  to  be,  slaves :  black  or  white,  i* 


316  TOBY'S   REWARD. 

makes  no  difference ;  and  the  slave  has  no  rights.  This 
is  the  first  principle  of  human  slavery.  This  every  slave 
society  tends  directly  to  develop.  It  may  be  kept  care- 
fully out  of  sight,  but  there  it  lurks,  in  the  hardened 
hearts  of  men,  like  water  within  rocks.  It  is  forever 
gushing  up  in  little  springs  of  despotism.  Once  it 
burst  forth  in  a  vast  convulsive  flood,  and  that  was  the 
Rebellion. 

Although  Lysander  had  never  owned  a  slave,  he  had  all 
his  life  breathed  the  atmosphere  of  the  institution,  and 
imbibed  its  spirit.  He  hated  labor.  He  was  ambitious 
But  he  was  poor.  Like  a  flying  fish,  he  had  forced  him- 
self out  of  the  lower  element  of  society,  to  which  he 
naturally  belonged,  and  had  long  desperately  endeavored 
to  soar.  The  struggle  it  had  cost  him  to  attain  his  pres- 
ent position  rendered  him  all  the  more  violent  in  his 
hatred  of  the  inferior  class,  and  all  the  more  eager  to 
enjoy  the  privileges  of  the  aristocracy.  Do  not  blame 
this  man  too  much.  The  injustice,  the  cruelty,  the  atro- 
cious selfishness  he  displays,  do  not  belong  so  much  to 
the  individual  as  to  the  institution.  The  milk  of  this 
wolf  makes  the  child  it  nourishes  wolfish. 

Torture  to  the  extent  of  ten  lashes  was  applied ;  then 
once  more  the  question  was  put.  Gashed,  bleeding, 
strung  up  by  his  thumbs  to  the  crossbeam ;  every  blow  of 
the  extemporized  whips  extorting  from  him  a  howl  of 
agony ;  no  rescue  at  hand ;  Lysander  looking  on  with  a 
merciless  smile  ;  the  brothers  doing  their  assigned  \vork 


TOBY'S    REWARD.  317 

with  merciless  nonchalance  ;    well  might  poor  Toby  cry 
out,  in  the  wild  insanity  of  pain,  — 

"  Yes,  sar  !     I'll  tell,  I'll  tell,  sar  !  " 

"  Very  good,"  said  Lysander.  "  Let  him  breathe  a 
minute,  boys." 

But  in  that  minute  Toby  gathered  up  his  soul  again, 
dismissed  the  traitor,  Cowardice,  and  took  counsel  of  his 
fidelity.  Betray  his  good  old  master  to  these  ruffians  ? 
Break  his  promise  to  Virginia,  his  oath  to  Cudjo  and 
Pomp  ?  No,  he  couldn't  do  that.  He  thought  of  Penn, 
who  would  certainly  be  hung  if  captured ;  and  hung 
through  his  treachery  ! 

"  Now,  out  with  it,"  said  Lysander.  "  All  about  the 
cave.  And  don't  ye  lie,  for  you'll  have  to  go  and  show  it 
to  us  when  we're  ready." 

"  I  can't  tell !  "  said  Toby.  "  Dar  ain't  no  cave ! 
none 't  I  knows  about  —  dat's  shore!"  This  was  of 
course  a  downright  lie ;  but  it  was  told  to  save  from  ruin 
those  he  loved;  and  I  do  not  think  it  stands  charged 
against  his  soul  on  the  books  of  the  recording  angel. 

"  Ten  more,  boys,"  said  Lysander. 

"  O,  wait,  wait,  sar  !  "  shrieked  Toby.  "  Des  guv  me 
time  to  tink  !  " 

He  thought  of  ten  lashes ;  ten  more  afterwards ;  and 
still  another  ten ;  for  he  knew  that  the  whipping  would 
not  cease  until  either  he  betrayed  the  fugitives  or  died ; 
and  every  lash  was  to  him  an  agony. 

"  Think  quick,"  said  Captain  Sprowl. 
27* 


318  TOBY'S    HE  WARD. 

Just  then  the  door  of  the  kitchen  opened.  Toby 
grasped  wildly  at  that  straw  of  hope.  It  broke  instantly. 
The  comer  was  Salina.  She  had  had  the  power  to  be- 
tray him,  but  not  the  power  to  save.  She  stood  with 
folded  arms,  and  smiled. 

"  I  can't  help  you,  Toby,  but  I  can  be  revenged." 

"  Hello  !  "  cried  Lysander,  with  a  start.  "  What  smoke 
is  that?" 

She  had  left  the  door  open,  and  a  draught  of  air 
wafted  a  strange  smell  of  burning  cloth  and  pine  wood  to 
his  nostrils. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Salina,  "  only  the  house  is  afire." 


CARL    MAKES   AN  ENGAGEMENT.  319 


XXXIII. 


GAEL  MAKES  AN  ENGAGEMENT. 


YSANDER  looked  in  through  the  doors 
and  saw  flames.  She  had  touched  the  lamp 
to  the  sitting-room  curtains,  and  they  had 
ignited  the  wood-work. 

"  Your  own  house,"  he  said,  furiously.  "  What  a 
fiend  ! " 

"  It  was  my  father's  house  until  you  took  possession  of 
it,"  she  answered.  "  Now  it  shall  burn." 

If  he  had  not  already  considered  that  he  had  an  interest 
at  stake,  that  gentle  remark  reminded  him. 

"  Boys  !  come  quick  !  By !  we  must  put  out 

the  fire  ! " 

He  rushed  into  the  kitchen.  The  German  brothers  had 
come  to  execute  his  commands :  whether  to  flay  a  negro 
or  extinguish  a  fire,  was  to  them  a  matter  of  indifference ; 
and  they  followed  him,  seizing  pails. 

Salina  was  prepared  for  the  emergency.  She  held  a 
butcher-knife  concealed  under  her  folded  arms.  With 


320  CARL   MAKES   AN  ENGAGEMENT. 

this  she  cut  the  cords  above  Toby's  thumbs.  It  was  done 
in  an  instant. 

"  Now,  take  this  and  run  !  If  they  go  to  take  you,  kill 
them  ! " 

She  thrust  the  handle  of  the  knife  into  his  hand,  and 
pushed  him  from  the  shed.  Terrified,  bewildered,  weak, 
he  seemed  moving  in  a  kind  of  nightmare.  But  somehow 
he  got  around  the  corner  of  the  shed,  and  disappeared  in 
the  darkness. 

The  brothers  saw  him  go.  They  were  drawing  water 
at  the  well,  and  handing  it  to  Lysander  in  the  house. 
But  they  had  been  told  to  hand  water,  not  to  catch  the 
negro.  So  they  looked  placidly  at  each  other,  and  said 
nothing. 

The  fire  was  soon  extinguished ;  and  Lysander,  with 
his  coat  off,  pail  in  hand,  excited,  turned  and  saw  his 
"  fiend"  of  a  wife  seated  composedly  in  a  chair,  regard- 
ing him  with  a  smile  sarcastic  and  triumphant.  He 
uttered  a  frightful  oath. 

"  Any  more  of  your  tantrums,  and  I'll  kill  you  !  " 

"  Any  more  of  yours,"  she  replied,  "  and  I'll  burn  you 
up.  I  can  set  fires  faster  than  you  can  put  them  out.  I 
don't  care  for  the  house  any  more  than  I  care  for  my  life, 
and  that's  precious  little." 

By  the  tone  in  which  she  said  these  words,  level,  deter- 
mined, distinct,  with  that  spice  which  compressed  fury 
lends,  Captain  Lysander  Sprowl  knew  perfectly  well  thai 
she  meant  them. 


CARL    MAKES   AN  ENGAGEMENT.  321 

The  brothers  looked  at  each  other  intelligently.  One 
said  something  in  German,  which  we  may  translate  by  the 
words  "  Incompatibility  of  temper  ; "  and  he  smiled  with 
dry  humor.  The  other  responded  in  the  same  tongue, 
and  with  a  sleepy  nod,  glancing  phlegmatically  at  Sprowl. 
What  he  said  may  be  rendered  by  the  phrase  —  "  Caught 
a  Tartar." 

Although  Lysander  did  not  understand  the  idiom,  he 
seemed  to  be  quite  of  the  Teutonic  opinion.  He  regarded 
Mrs.  Sprowl  with  a  sort  of  impotent  rage.  If  he  was  reck- 
less, she  had  shown  herself  more  reckless.  Though  he 
was  so  desperate,  she  had  outdone  him  in  desperation. 
He  saw  plainly  that  if  he  touched  her  now,  that  touch 
must  be  kindness,  or  it  must  be  death. 

"  Have  you  let  Toby  go  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Salina. 

"  We  can  catch  him,"  said  Lysander. 

"  If  you  do  you  will  be  sorry.     I  warn  you  in  season." 

Since  she  said  so,  Lysander  did  not  doubt  but  that  it 
Would  be  so.  He  concluded,  therefore,  not  to  catch  Toby 
= — that  night.  Moreover,  he  resolved  to  go  back  to  his 
quarters  and  sleep.  He  was  afraid  of  that  wildcat ;  he 
dreaded  the  thought  of  trusting  himself  in  the  house  with 
her.  He  durst  not  kill  her,  and  he  durst  not  go  to  sleep, 
leaving  her  alive.  The  Germans,  perceiving  his  fear, 
looked  at  each  other  and  grunted.  That  grunt  was  the 
German  for  "  mean  cuss."  They  saw  through  Lysander. 

After  all  were  gone,  Salina  went  out  and  called  Toby. 


322  CARL   MAKES  AN  ENGAGEMENT. 

The  old  negro  had  fled  for  his  life,  and  did  not  hear.  She 
returned  into  the  house,  the  aspect  of  which  was  rendered 
all  the  more  desolate  and  drear  by  the  marks  of  fire,  the 
water  that  drenched  the  floor,  the  smoky  atmosphere,  and 
the  dim  and  bluish  lamp- light.  The  unhappy  woman  sat 
down  in  the  lonely  apartment,  and  thought  of  her 
brief  dream  of  happiness,  of  this  last  quarrel  which  could 
never  be  made  up,  and  of  the  hopeless,  loveless,  miserable 
future,  until  it  seemed  that  the  last  drop  of  womanly 
blood  in  her  veins  was  turned  to  gall. 

At  the  same  hour,  not  many  miles  away,  on  a  rude 
couch  in  a  mountain  cave,  by  her  father's  side,  Virginia 
was  tranquilly  sleeping,  and  dreaming  of  angel  visits. 
Across  the  entrance  of  the  cavern,  like  an  ogre  keeping 
guard,  Cudjo  was  stretched  on  a  bed  of  skins.  The 
fire,  which  rarely  went  out.  illumined  faintly  the  subter- 
ranean gloom.  By  its  light  came  one,  and  looked  at  the 
old  man  and  his  child  sleeping  there,  so  peacefully,  so 
innocently,  side  by  side.  The  face  of  the  father  was 
solemn,  white,  and  calm ;  that  of  the  maiden,  smiling  and 
sweet.  The  heart  of  the  young  man  yearned  within  him  ; 
his  eyes,  as  they  gazed,  filled  with  tears;  and  his  lips 
murmured  with  pure  emotion,  — 

"  O  Lord,  I  thank  thee  for  their  sakes  !  O  Lord,  pre- 
serve them  and  bless  them  ! " 

And  he  moved  softly  away,  his  whole  soul  suffused  with 
ineffable  tenderness  towards  that  good  old  man  and  the 
dear,  beautiful  girl.  He  had  stolen  thither  to  see  that  all 


CARL  MAKES  AN  ENGAGEMENT.      323 

was  well.  All  was  indeed  well.  And  now  he  retired 
once  more  to  a  recess  in  the  rock,  where  he  and  Pomp 
had  made  their  bed  of  blankets  and  dry  moss. 

The  footsteps  on  the  solid  floor  of  stone  had  not 
awakened  her.  And  what  was  more  remarkable,  the  lov- 
er's beating  heart  and  worshipping  gaze  had  not  disturbed 
her  slumber.  But  now  the  slightest  movement  on  the 
part  of  her  blind  parent  banishes  sleep  in  an  instant. 

"  Daughter,  are  you  here  ?  " 

"  I  am  here,  father  !  " 

"  Are  you  well,  my  child  ?  " 

"  O,  very  well !  I  have  had  ouch  a  sweet  sleep  !  Can 
I  do  anything  for  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Let  me  feel  tha.t  you  are  near  me.  That  is  all." 
She  kissed  him.  "  Heaven  is  good  to  me  !  "  he  said. 

She  watched  him  until  he  slept  again.  Then,  her  soul 
filled  v.'ith  thankfulness  and  peace,  she  closed  her  eyes 
once  more,  and  happy  thoughts  became  happy  dreams. 

At  about  that  time  Salina  threw  herself  despairingly 
upon  her  bed,  at  home,  gnashing  her  teeth,  and  wishing 
she  had  never  been  born.  And  these  two  were  sisters. 
And  Salina  had  the  house  and  all  its  comforts  left  to  her, 
while  Virginia  had  nothing  of  outward  solace  for  her  deli- 
cate nature  but  the  rudest  entertainment.  So  true  it  is 
that  not  place,  and  apparel,  and  pride  make  us  happy, 
but  piety,  affection,  and  the  disposition  of  the  mind. 

The  night  passed,  and  morning  dawned,  and  they  who 
had  slept  awoke,  and  they  who  had  not  slept  watched 


324  CARL   MAKES   AN  ENGAGEMENT. 

bitterly  the  quickening  light  which  "brought  to  them,  not 
joy  and  refreshment,  but  only  another  phase  of  weariness 
and  misery. 

Captain  Lysander  Sprowl  was  observed  to  be  in  a  sav- 
age mood  that  day.  The  cares  of  married  life  did  not 
agree  with  him  :  they  do  not  with  some  people.  Because 
Salina  had  baffled  him,  and  Toby  had  escaped,  his  infe- 
riors had  to  suffer.  He  was  sharp  even  with  Lieutenant 
Ropes,  who  came  to  report  a  fact  of  which  he  had  received 
information. 

"  Stackridge  was  in  the  village  last  night ! " 

"  What's  that  to  me  ?  "  said  Lysander. 

"  The  lieutenant- colonel  —  "  whispered  Silas.  Sprowl 
grew  attentive.  By  the  lieutenant- colonel  was  meant  no 
other  person  than  Augustus  Bythewood,  who  had  received 
his  commission  the  day  before.  Well  might  Lysander,  at 
the  mention  of  him  to  whom  both  these  aspiring  officers 
owed  everything,  bend  a  little  and  listen.  Ropes  pro- 
ceeded. "  He  feels  a  cussed  sight  badder  now  he  believes 
the  gal  is  in  a  cave  somewhars  with  the  schoolmaster,  than 
he  did  when  he  thought  she  was  burnt  up  in  the  woods. 
He  entirely  approves  of  your  conduct  last  night,  and  says 
Toby  must  be  ketched,  and  the  secret  licked  out  of  him. 
In  the  mean  while  he  thinks  sunthin'  can  be  done  with 
Stackridge' s  family.  Stackridge  was  home  last  night,  and 
of  course  his  wife  will  know  about  the  cave.  The  secret 
might  be  frightened  out  on  her,  or,  I  swear ! "  said 
Silas,  "  I  wouldn't  object  to  using  a  little  of  the  same  sort 


CARL   MAKES   AN  NEGAGEMENT.  325 

of  coercion  you  tried  with  Toby  ;  and  Bythcwood  wouldn't 
nuther.  Only,  you  understand,  he  musn't  be  supposed 
to  know  anything  about  it." 

Lysander's  eyes  gleamed.  He  showed  his  tobacco- 
stained  teeth  in  a  way  that  boded  no  good  to  any  of  the 
name  of  Stackridge. 

"  Good  idee  ? "  said  Silas,  with  a  coarse  and  brutal 
grin. 

"  Damned  good ! "  said  Lysander.  Indeed,  it  just 
suited  his  ferocious  mood.  "  Go  yourself,  lieutenant,  and 
put  it  into  execution." 

"  There's  one  objection  to  that,"  replied  Silas,  thrusting 
a  quid  into  his  cheek.  "  I  know  the  old  woman  so  well. 
It's  best  that  none  of  us  in  authority  should  be  supposed 
to  have  a  hand  in't.  Send  somebody  that  don't  know  her, 
and  that  you  can  depend  on  to  do  the  job  up  harnsome. 
How's  them  Dutchmen  ?" 

"  Just  the  chaps ! "  said  Lysander,  growing  good- 
natured  as  the  pleasant  idea  of  whipping  a  woman  de- 
veloped itself  more  and  more  to  his  appreciative  mind. 

From  flogging  a  slave,  to  flogging  a  free  negro,  the  step 
is  short  and  easy.  From  the  familiar  and  long-established 
usage  of  beating  slave-women,  to  the  novel  fashion  of 
whipping  the  patriotic  wives  of  Union  men,  the  step  is 
scarcely  longer,  or  more  difficult.  Even  the  chivalrous 
Bythewood,  who  was  certainly  a  gentleman  in  the  common 
acceptation  of  the  term,  magnificently  hospitable  to  his 
equals,  gallant  to  excess  among  ladies  worthy  of  his 
28 


326  CARL   MAKES  AN  ENGAGEMENT. 

smiles,  —  yet  who  never  interfered  to  prevent  the  flogging 
of  slave-mothers  on  his  estates,  —  saw  nothing  extraordi- 
nary or  revolting  in  the  idea  of  extorting  a  secret  from  a 
hated  Union  woman  by  means  of  the  lash.  To  such  gross 
appetites  for  cruelty  as  Ropes  had  cultivated,  the  thing 
relished  hugely.  The  keen,  malignant  palate  of  Lysander 
tasted  the  flavor  of  a  good  joke  in  it. 

The  project  was  freely  discussed,  and  in  the  hilarity  of 
their  hearts  the  two  officers  let  fall  certain  words,  like 
crumbs  from  their  table,  which  a  miserable  dog  chanced 
to  pick  up. 

That  miserable  dog  was  Dan  Pepperill,  whose  heart  was 
so  much  bigger  than  his  wit.  He  knew  that  mischief  was 
meant  towards  Mrs.  Stackridge.  How  could  he  warn  her? 
The  drums  were  already  beating  for  company  drill,  and  he 
despaired  of  doing  anything  to  save  her,  when  by  good 
fortune  —  or  is  there  something  besides  good  fortune  in 
such  things  ?  —  he  saw  one  of  his  children  approaching. 

The  little  Pepperill  came  with  a  message  from  hei 
mother.  Dan  heard  it  unheedingly,  then  whispered  in 
the  girl's  ear, — 

"  Go  and  tell  Mrs.  Stackridge  her  and  the  childern's 
invited  over  to  our  house  this  forenoon.  Right  away  now ! 
Partic'lar  reasons,  tell  her ! "  added  Dan,  reflecting  that 
ladies  in  Mrs.  Stackridge's  station  did  not  visit  those  in 
his  wife's  without  particular  reasons. 

The  child  ran  away,  and  Pepperill  fell  into  the  ranks, 
only  to  get  repeatedly  and  severely  reprimanded  by  the 


CARL    MAKES   AN  ENGAGEMENT.  o27 

drill-officer  for  his  heedlessness  that  morning.  He  did 
everything  awkwardly,  if  not  altogether  wrong.  His  mind 
was  on  the  child  and  the  errand  on  which  he  had  sent 
her,  and  he  kept  wondering  within  himself  whether  she 
would  do  it  correctly  (children  are  so  apt  to  do  errands 
amiss!),  and  whether  Mrs.  Stackridge  would  be  wise 
enough,  or  humble  enough,  to  go  quietly  and  give  Mrs. 
P.  a  call. 

After  company  drill  the  brothers  were  summoned, 
and  Lysander  gave  them  secret  orders.  They  were  to 
visit  Stackridge's  house,  seize  Mrs.  Stackridge  and  com- 
pel her,  by  blows  if  necessary,  to  tell  where  her  husband 
was  concealed. 

"  You  understand  ?  "   said  the  captain. 

"  Ve  unterstan,"  said  they,  dryly. 

Scarcely  had  the  brothers  departed,  when  a  prisoner 
was  brought  in.  It  was  Toby,  who  had  been  caught 
endeavoring  to  make  his  way  up  into  the  mountains. 

"  Now  we've  got  the  nigger,  mabby  we'd  better  send 
and  call  the  Dutchmen  back,"  said  Silas  Ropes. 

"  No,  no  !  "  said  Lysander,  through  his  teeth.  "  'Twon't 
do  any  harm  to  give  the  jade  a  good  dressing  down.  I 
wish  every  man,  woman,  and  child,  that  shrieks  for  the  old 
rotten  Union,  could  be  served  in  the  same  way." 

Having  set  his  heart  on  this  little  indulgence,  Sprowl 
could  not  easily  be  persuaded  to  give  it  up.  It  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  his  peace  of  mind  that  somebody  should 
be  flogged.  The  interesting  affair  with  Toby,  which  had 


328  CARL  MAKES  AN  ENGAGEMENT. 

been  so  abruptly  broken  off, — left,  like  a  novelette  in 
the  newspapers,  to  be  continued,  —  must  be  concluded  in 
some  shape  :  it  mattered  little  upon  whose  flesh  the  final 
chapters  were  struck  off. 

In  the  mean  time  the  recaptured  negro  was  taken  to  the 
guard-house.  There  he  found  a  sympathizing  companion. 
It  was  Carl.  To  him  he  told  his  story,  and  showed  his 
wounds,  the  sight  of  which  filled  the  heart  of  the  lad  with 
rage,  and  pity,  and  grief. 

"  Vot  sort  of  Tutchmen  vos  they  ?  "  Toby  described 
them.  Carl's  eyes  kindled.  "  I  shouldn't  be  wery  much 
susprised,"  said  he,  "  if  they  vos  —  no  matter  !  " 

Lieutenant  Ropes  arrived,  bringing  into  the  guard- 
house a  formidable  cat-o' -nine-tails. 

"  String  that  nigger  up,"  said  Silas. 

Ropes  was  not  the  man  to  await  patiently  the  issue  of 
the  woman-whipping,  while  here  was  a  chance  for  a  little 
private  sport.  He  remembered  how  Toby  had  got  away 
from  him  once  —  that  he  too  owed  him  a  flogging. 
Debts  of  this  kind,  if  no  others,  Silas  delighted  to  pay ; 
and  accordingly  the  negro  was  strung  up.  It  was  well  for 
the  lieutenant  that  Carl  had  irons  on  his  wrists. 

The  sound  of  the  poor  old  man's  groans,  —  the  sight  of 
his  gashed,  oozing,  and  inflamed  back,  bared  again  to  the 
whip,  —  was  to  Carl  unendurable.  But  as  it  was  not  in 
his  power  to  obey  the  impulse  of  his  soul,  to  spring  for  a 
musket  and  slay  that  monster  of  cruelty,  Ropes,  on  the 
spot,  —  he  must  try  other  means,  perhaps  equally  unwise 
and  desperate,  to  save  Toby  from  torture. 


CARL    MAKES    AN  EN Q A  G  E M E NT.  329 

"  Vait,  sir,  if  you  please,  vim  leetle  moment,"  he  called 
out  to  Silas.  "  I  have  a  vord  or  two  to  shpeak." 

He  had  as  yet,  however,  scarcely  made  up  his  mind 
what  to  propose.  A  moment's  reflection  convinced  him 
that  only  one  thing  could  purchase  .Toby's  reprieve  ;  and 
perhaps  even  that  would  fail.  Regardless  of  consequences 
to  himself,  he  resolved  to  try  it. 

"  I  know  petter  as  he  does  about  the  cave  ;  I  vos 
there,"  he  cried  out,  boldly. 

"  Hey  ?  You  offer  yourself  to  be  whipped  in  this  old 
nigger's  place  ?  "  said  Ropes. 

"  Not  wery  much,"  replied  Carl.  "  I  can  go  mit  you 
or  anypody  you  vill  send,  and  show  vair  the  cave  is.  I 
remember.  But  if  you  vill  have  me  whipped,  I  shouldn't 
be  wery  much  surprised  if  that  vould  make  me  to  forget. 
Whippins,"  he  added,  significantly,  "  is  wery  pad  for  the 
memory." 

"  You  mean  to  say,  if  you  are  licked,  then  you  won't 
tell  ?  " 

"  That  ish  the  idea  I  vished  to  conwey." 

"We'll  see  about  that."  Silas  laughed.  "In  the 
mean  time  we'll  try  what  can  be  got  out  of  this  nigger." 

Toby,  who  had  had  a  gleam  of  hope,  now  fell  again 
into  despair.  Just  then  Captain  Sprowl  came  in. 

"  Hold  !     What  are  you  doing  with  that  nigger  ?  " 

Silas  explained,  and  Carl  repeated  his  proposal.  Lysan- 
der  caught  eagerly  at  it.  He  remembered  Salina's  warn- 
ing, and  was  glad  of  any  excuse  to  liberate  the  old  negro. 
28* 


330  CAPTAIN  LYSANDER'S   JOKE. 

"  You  promise  to  take  me  to  the  cave  ? "  Carl  as- 
sented. "  Why,  then,  lieutenant,  that's  all  we  "want,  and 
I  order  this  boy  to  be  set  free." 

"  This  boy  "  was  Toby,  who  was  accordingly  let  off,  to 
his  own  inexpressible  joy  and  Ropes' s  infinite  disgust. 

"  If  Carl  he  take  de  responsumbility  to  show  de  cave, 
dat  ain't  my  fault.  'Sides,  dat  boy  am  bright,  he  am; 
de  secesh  can't  git  much  de  start  o'  him  !  " 

Thus  the  old  negro  congratulated  himself  on  his  way 
home.  At  the  same  time  Carl,  still  in  irons,  was  saying 
to  himself ,  — 

"  So  far  so  goot.  If  they  had  whipped  Toby,  two  things 
vould  be  wery  pad  —  the  whipping,  for  one,  and  he  would 
have  told,  for  another.  But  I  have  made  vun  promise.  It 
vas  a  pad  promise,  and  a  pad  promise  is  petter  proken  as 
kept.  But  if  I  preak  it,  they  vill  preak  my  head.  Vo* 
shall  I  do  ?  Now  let  me  see  !  "  said  Carl. 

And  he  remained  plunged  in  thought. 


CARL  MAKES  AX  ENGAGEMENT.       331 


XXXIV. 


CAPTAIN  LYS ANDES' S  JOKE. 


INGE  the  time  when  she  lost  her  best 
feather-bed  and  her  boarder,  the  worthy 

widow  Sprowl  had  suffered  serious  pecuniary 
embarrassment.  She  missed  sadly  the  regular  four  dol- 
lars a  week,  and  the  irregular  gratuities,  she  had  received 
from  Penn.  So  much  secession  had  cost  her,  without 
yielding  as  yet  any  of  its  promised  benefits.  The  Yankees 
had  not  stepped  up  with  the  alacrity  expected  of  them,  and 
thrust  their  servile  necks  into  the  yoke  of  their  natural 
masters.  The  slave  trade  was  not  reopened.  Niggers 
were  not  yet  so  cheap  that  every  poor  widow  could,  at  a 
trifling  expense,  provide  herself  with  several,  and  grow 
rich  on  their  labor.  In  the  pride  of  seeing  her  son  made 
what  she  called  a  "  capting,"  and  in  the  hope  of  enjoying 
some  of  the  golden  fruits  of  his  valor,  she  had  given  him 
her  last  penny,  and  received  up  to  the  present  time  not  a 
penny  from  him  in  return.  In  short,  Lysander  was  un- 
grateful, and  the  widow  was  a  disappointed  woman. 


382  CAPTAIN  LYSANDER'S  JOKE. 

So  it  happened  that  the  sugar-bowl  and  tea-canister  were 
often  empty,  and  the  poor  widow  had  no  legitimate  means 
of  replenishing  them.  In  this  extremity  she  resorted  to 
borrowing.  She  borrowed  of  everybody,  and  never  re- 
paid. She  borrowed  even  of  the  hated  Unionists  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  confessed  with  bitterness  to  her  son 
that  she  found  them  more  ready  to  lend  to  her  than  the 
families  of  secessionists. 

Again,  on  the  morning  of  the  events  related  in  the  last 
chapter,  she  found  herself  in  want  of  many  things — • 
tea,  sugar,  meal,  beans,  potatoes,  snuff,  and  tobacco ;  for 
this  excellent  woman  snuffed,  "  dipped,"  and  smoked. 

"  Where  shall  I  go  and  borry  to-day  ? "  said  she, 
counting  her  patrons,  and  the  number  of  times  she  had 
been  to  borrow  of  each,  on  her  fingers.  "  Thar's  Mis' 
Stackridge.  I  hain't  been  to  her  but  oncet.  I'll  go 
agin,  and  carry  the  big  basket." 

With  her  basket  on  her  arm,  and  an  ancient  brown 
bonnet  (which  had  been  black  at  the  time  of  the  demise 
of  the  late  lamented  Sprowl,)  on  her  head,  and  a  multi- 
tude of  excuses  on  her  tongue,  she  set  out,  and  walked 
to  the  farmer's  house.  This  had  one  of  those  great, 
shed-like  openings  through  it,  so  common  in  Tennessee. 
A  door  on  the  left,  as  you  entered  this  covered  space, 
led  to  the  kitchen  and  living-room  of  the  family.  Here 
the  widow  knocked. 

There  was  no  response.  She  knocked  again,  with  the 
same  result.  Then  she  pulled  the  latch-string  —  for  the 


CAPTAIN  LYSANDER'S   JOKE.  333 

door  even  of  this  well-to-do  farmer  had  a  latch-string, 
She  entered.  The  house  was  deserted. 

"  Ain't  to  home,  none  of  'em,  hey  ?  "  said  the  widow, 
peering  about  her  with  a  disagreeable  scowl.  "  HOUS& 
wan't  locked,  nuther.  Wonder  if  Mis'  Stackridge  and 
the  childern  have  gone  to  the  mountains  too  ?  And 
whar's  old  Aunt  Deb  ?  " 

Her  first  feeling  was  that  of  resentment.  What  rigH, 
had  Mrs.  Stackridge  to  be  absent  when  she  came  to 
borrow  ?  As  she  explored  the  pantry  and  closets,  how- 
ever, and  became  convinced  that  she  was  absolutely 
alone  in  a  well-provisioned  farm-house,  her  countenance 
lighted  up  with  a  smile. 

"  I  can  borry  what  I  want  jest  exac'ly  as  well  as  if 
Mis'  Stackridge  war  to  home,"  thought  the  widow. 

And  she  proceeded  to  fill  her  basket.  She  helped  her- 
self to  a  pan  of  meal,  borrowing  the  pan  with  it.  "  I'll 
fetch  home  the  pan,"  said  she,  "  when  I  do  the  meal,"  — 
exposing  her  craggy  teeth  with  a  grim  smile.  "  If  I 
don't  before,  I'm  a  feared  Mis'  Stackridge  '11  haf  to  wait 
for 't  a  considerable  spell !  What's  in  this  box  ?  Coffee  J 
May  as  well  take  box  and  all.  Bring  back  the  box  when 
I  do  the  coffee.  Wish  I  could  find  some  tobacky  some- 
whars  —  wonder  whar  they  keep  their  tobacky  !  " 

Now,  the  excellent  creature  did  not  indulge  in  these 
liberties  without  some  apprehension  that  Mrs.  Stackridge 
might  return  suddenly  and  interrupt  them.  Perhaps  she 
had  not  followed  Mr.  Stackridge  to  the  mountains. 


334  CAPTAIN  LYSANDJSS'S   JOKE. 

Perhaps  she  had  only  gone  into  the  village  to  "buy  shoes 
for  her  children,  or  to  call  on  a  neighbor.  "  If  she 
should  come  back  and  ketch  me  at  it,  —  why,  then, 
I'll  tell  her  I'm  only  jest  a  borryin',  and  see  what  she'll 
do  about  it.  The  prop'ty  of  these  yer  durned  Union- 
shriekers  is  all  gwine  to  be  confisticated,  and  I  reckon 
I  may  as  well  take  my  sheer  Avhen  I  can  git  it.  Thar's 
a  paper  o'  black  pepper,  and  I'll  take  it  jest  as  'tis. 
Thar's  a  jar  o'  lump  butter,  —  wish  I  could  tote  jar  and 
all! — have  some  of  the  lumps  on  a  plate  anyhow!" 

She  had  soon  filled  her  basket,  and  was  regretting 
she  had  not  brought  two,  or  a  larger  one,  when  a  hand- 
some, new  tin  pail,  hanging  in  the  pantry,  caught  her 
eye.  "  Been  wantin'  jest  sich  a  pail  as  that,  this  long 
while  !  "  And  she  proceeded  to  fill  that  also. 

Just  as  she  was  putting  the  cover  on,  she  was  very 
much  startled  by  hearing  footsteps  at  the  door. 

"  O,  dear  me !  What  shall  I  do  ?  If  it  should  be 
Mr.  Stackridge  !  But  it  can't  be  him  !  If  it's  only  Mis' 
Stackridge  or  one  of  the  niggers,  I'll  face  it  out !  They 
won't  das'  to  make  a  fuss,  for  they're  Union- shriek ers, 
and  my  son's  a  capting  in  the  confederate  army ! " 

Thump,  thump,  thump  !  —  loud  knocking  at  the  door. 

"  My,  it's  visitors  !  Who  can  it  be  ?  "  She  set  down 
her  pail  and  basket.  "  I'll  act  jest  as  if  I  had  a  right 
here,  anyhow  !  " 

She  was  hesitating,  when  the  string  was  pulled, 
and  two  strangers,  stout,  square  built,  with  foreign 


CAPTA:?}  JLYSANDER'S  JOKE.  335 

iov  hiing  faces,  carrying  Wt.uskets,  and  dressed  in  confed- 
erate? uniform,  entered. 

"  MVs.  Stackridge  ?  "  said  they,  in  a  heavy  Teutonic 
accent. 

"Ye — -ye  — yes  —  "  stamwe^ed  the  widow,  trying  to 
hide  the  guilty  basket  and  pail  behind  her  skirts. 
"  What  do  you  want  of  Mis'  Stackridge  ? " 

One  of  the  strangers  said  to  the  other,  in  German, 
indicating  the  plander,  — 

"  This  is  the  woman.  She  is  getting  provisions  ready 
to  send  to  her  husband  in  the  mountains." 

"  Let  us  see  what  there  is  good  to  eat,"  said  the 
other. 

Mrs.  Sprowl,  although  understanding  no  word  that  was 
spoken,  perceived  that  the  borrowed  property  formed  the 
theme  of  their  remarks. 

"  Have  some  ?  "  she  hastened  to  say,  with  extreme 
politeness,  as  the  Germans  approached  the  provisions. 

"  Tank  ye,"  said  they,  finding  some  bread  and  cold 
meat.  And  they  ate  with  appetite,  exchanging  glances, 
and  grunting  with  satisfaction. 

"  O,  take  all  you  want !  "  said  the  widow.  "  You're 
welcome  to  anything  there  is  in  the  house,  I'm  shore  !  " 
—  adding,  within  herself,  "I  am  so  glad  these  soldiers 
have  come  !  Now,  whatever  is  missing  will  be  laid  to 
them." 

"  You  de  lady  of  de  house  ? "  said  the  foreigners, 
munching. 


336  CAPTAIN  LYSAXDER'S   JOKE. 

"  Yes,  help  yourselves  !  "   smiled  the  hospitable  widow. 

"  You  Mrs.  Stackridge  ?  "  they  inquired,  more  particu- 
larly. 

"  Yes  ;   take  anything  you  like  !  "  replied  the  widow. 

"  Where  your  husband  ?  " 

"  My  husband !  ray  poor  dear  husband !  he  has  been 
dead  these " 

She  checked  herself,  remembering  that  the  soldiers  took 
her  for  Mrs.  Stackridge.  If  she  undeceived  them,  then 
they  would  know  she  had  been  stealing. 

"  Dead  ?  "  The  Germans  shook  their  heads  and  smiled. 
"  No  !  He  was  here  last  night.  He  was  seen.  You 
take  dese  tings  to  him  up  in  de  mountain." 

"  Would  you  like  some  cheese  ? "  said  the  embarrassed 
widow. 

"  Tank  ye.    Dis  is  better  as  rations." 

Mrs.  Sprowl  returned  to  the  pantry,  in  order  to  replace 
the  provisions  she  had  so  generously  given  away,  and 
prepared  to  depart  with  the  basket  and  pail ;  inviting 
the  guests  repeatedly  to  make  themselves  quite  at  home, 
and  to  take  whatever  they  could  find. 

"  Wait !  "  said  they.  Each  had  a  knee  on  the  floor, 
and  one  hand  full  of  bread  and  cheese.  They  looked  up 
at  her  with  broad,  complacent,  unctuous  faces,  smiling, 
yet  resolute.  And  one,  with  his  unoccupied  hand,  laid 
hold  of  the  handle  of  the  basket,  while  the  other  detained 
the  pail.  "  You  will  tell  us  where  is  your  husband,"  said 
they. 


CAPTAIN  LYSANDER'S   JOKE.  337 

"  O,  dear  me,  I  don't  know !  I'm  a  poor  lone  wo- 
man, and  where  my  husband  is  I  can't  consaive,  I'm 
shore ! " 

"  You  will  tell  us  where  is  your  husband,"  repeated 
the  men ;  and  one  of  them,  getting  upon  his  feet,  stood 
before  her  at  the  door. 

"  He's  on  the  mountain  somewhars.  I  don't  know 
whar,  and  I  don't  keer,"  cried  the  widow,  excited.  There 
was  something  in  the  stolid,  determined  looks  of  the 
brothers  she  did  not  like.  "  He's  a  bad  man,  Mr. 
Stackridge  is  !  I'm  a  secessionist  myself.  You  are 
welcome  to  everything  in  the  house  —  only  let  me  go 
now." 

"  You  will  not  go,"  said  the  soldier  at  the  door,  "  till 
you  tell  us.  We  come  for  dat." 

On  entering,  they  had  placed  their  muskets  in  the  cor- 
ner. The  speaker  took  them,  and  handed  one  to  his 
comrade.  And  now  the  widow  observed  that  out  of  the 
muzzle  of  each  protruded  the  butt-end  of  a  small  cowhide. 
Each  soldier  held  his  gun  at  his  side,  and  laying  hold  of 
the  said  butt-end,  drew  out  the  long  taper  belly  and 
dangling  lash  of  the  whip,  like  a  black  snake  by  the  neck. 

The  widow  screamed. 

"  It's  all  a  mistake.  Let  me  go!  I  ain't  Mis'  Stack- 
ridge ! " 

Nothing  so  natural  as  that  the  wife  of  the  notorious 
Unionist  should  deny  her  identity  at  sight  of  the  whips. 
The  soldiers  looked  at  each  other,  muttered  something  in 
29 


33S  CAPTAIN  LYSANDER'S   JOKE. 

German,  smiled,  and  replaced  their  muskets  in  the 
corner. 

"  You  tell  us  where  is  your  husband.  Or  else  we  whip 
you.  Dat  is  our  orders." 

This  they  said  in  low  tones,  with  mild  looks,  and  with 
a  calmness  which  was  frightful.  The  widow  saw  that  she 
had  to  do  with  men  who  obeyed  orders  literally,  and  knew 
no  mercy. 

"  I  hain't  got  no  husband.  I  ain't  Mis'  Stackridge. 
I'm  a  poor  lone  widder,  that  jest  come  over  here  to  borry 
a  few  things,  and  that's  all." 

"  Ve  unterstan.  You  say  shust  now  you  are  Mrs. 
Stackridge.  Now  you  say  not.  Dat  make  no  difruns. 
Ve  know.  You  tell  us  where  is  your  husband,  or  ve 
string  you  up." 

This  speech  was  pronounced  by  both  the  foreigners,  a 
sentence  by  each,  alternately.  At  the  conclusion  one  drew 
a  strong  cord  from  his  pocket,  while  the  other  looked 
with  satisfaction  at  certain  hooks  in  the  plastering  over- 
head, designed  originally  for  the  support  of  a  kitchen  pole, 
but  now  destined  for  another  use. 

"  Don't  you  dast  to  tech  me  !"  screamed  the  false 
Mrs.  Stackridge.  "  I'm  a  secessionist  myself,  that  hates 
the  Union-shriekers  wus  'n  you  do,  and  I've  got  a  son 
that's  a  capting,  and  a  poor  lone  widder  at  that ! " 

"  Dat  we  don't  know.  What  we  know  is,  you  tell 
what  we  say,  or  we  whip  you.  Dat's  Captain  Shprowl's 
orders." 


CAPTAIN  LYSANDER'S   JOKE.  339 

"  Capting  Sprowl !  That's  my  son  !  my  own  son  !  If  he 
sent  you,  then  it's  all  right !  " 

"  So  we  tink.  All  right."  And  the  soldiers,  seizing 
her,  tied  her  thumbs  as  Lysander  had  taught  them,  passed 
the  cords  over  the  hook  as  they  had  passed  the  clothes- 
line over  the  cross-beam  the  night  before,  and  drew  the 
shrieking  woman's  hands  above  her  head,  precisely  as  they 
had  hauled  up  Toby's.  They  then  turned  her  skirts  up 
over  her  head,  and  fastened  them.  This  also  they  had 
been  instructed  to  do  by  Lysander.  It  was,  you  will  say, 
shameful :  for  this  woman  was  free  and  white.  Had  she 
been  a  slave,  with  a  different  complexion,  although  per- 
haps quite  as  white,  would  it  have  been  any  the  less 
shameful  ?  Answer,  ye  believers  in  the  divine  rights  of 
slave-masters ! 

"  Now  you  vill  tell  ?  "  said  the  phlegmatic  Teutons, 
measuring  out  their  whips. 

"  Go  for  my  son  !  My  son  is  Capting  Sprowl !  "  gasped 
the  stifled  and  terror-stricken  widow. 

"  Dat  trick  won't  do.     You  shpeak,  or  we  shtrike." 

"Jt  is  true,  it  is  true  !  I  am  Mrs.  Sprowl,  and  my 
husband  is  dead,  and  my  son  is  Capting  Sprowl,  and  a 
poor  lone  widder,  that  if  you  strike  her  a  single  blow 
he'll  have  you  took  and  hung !  " 

"  If  he  is  your  son,  den  by  your  own  son's  orders  we 
whip  you.  He  vill  not  hang  us  for  dat.  You  vill  not 
tell  ?  Den  we  give  you  ten  lash." 

Blow  upon  blow,  shriek  upon  shriek,   followed.     The 


340  CAPTAIN  LYSAXDJSK'S   JOKE. 

soldiers  counted  the  strokes  aloud,  deliberately,  conscien- 
tiously, as  they  gave  them,  "  Vun,  two,  tree,"  &c.,  up  to 
ten.  There  they  stopped.  But  the  screams  did  not  stop. 
This  punishment,  which  it  was  sport  to  inflict  upon  a 
faithful  old  negro,  which  it  -would  have  been  such  a  good 
joke  to  have  bestowed  upon  the  wife  of  a  stanch  Union- 
ist, was  no  sport,  no  joke,  but  altogether  a  tragic  affair 
to  thy  mother,  O  Lysander  ! 

Then  she,  who  had  so  often  wished  that  she  too  owned 
slaves,  that  when  she  was  angry  she  might  have  them 
strung  up  and  flogged,  knew  by  fearful  experience  what 
it  was  to  be  strung  up  and  flogged.  Then  she,  who  sym- 
pathized with  her  son  in  his  desire  to  see  every  man, 
woman,  and  child,  that  loved  the  old  Union,  served  in  this 
fashion,  felt  in  her  own  writhing  and  bleeding  fle'sh  the 
stings  of  that  inhuman  vengeance.  Terrible  blunder,  for 
which  she  had  only  herself  to  thank !  Robbery  of  her 
neighbor's  house  —  the  dishonest  "borrowing,"  not  of 
these  ill-gotten  goods  only,  but  also  of  her  neighbor's 
name  —  had  brought  her,  by  what  we  call  fatality,  to 
ihis  strait. 

Fatality  is  but  another  name  for  Providence. 

The  soldiers  waited  for  a  lull  in  the  shrieks,  then  put 
vnce  more  the  question. 

"  You  tell  now  ?  Where  is  your  husband  ?  No  ?  Den 
you  git  ten  lash  more.  Always  ten  lash  till  you  tell." 

A  storm  of  incoherent  denial,  angry  threats,  sobs,  and 
screams,  was  the  response.  One  of  the  soldiers  drew  her 


CAPTAIN  LYSANDER'S   JOKE.  341 

sKirts  over  her  head  again,  and  gave  another  pull  at  the 
cords  that  hauled  up  her  thumbs,  while  the  other  stood 
off  and  measured  out  his  whip. 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Captain  Sprowl 
looked  in. 

"  How  are  you  getting  on,  boys  ?  " 

The  question  was  accompanied  by  an  approving  smile, 
which  seemed  to  say,  "  I  see  you  are  getting  on  very 
well." 

"  We  whip  her  once.  We  give  her  ten  lash.  She  not 
tell." 

"  Very  well.     Give  her  ten  more." 

The  widow  struggled  and  screamed.  Had  she  recog- 
nized her  son's  voice  ?  Muffled  as  she  was,  he  did  not 
recognize  hers.  Nor  was  it  surprising  that,  in  the  unu- 
sual posture  in  which  he  found  her,  he  did  not  know  her 
from  Mrs.  Stackridge. 

He  stood  in  the  door  and  smiled  while  the  soldier 
laid  on. 

"  Make  it  a  dozen,"  he  quietly  remarked.  "  And 
smart  ones,  to  wind  up  with  !  " 

So  it  happened  that,  thanks  to  her  son's  presence,  the 
screeching  victim  got  two  "  smart  ones  "  additional. 

"  Now  uncover  her  face.  Ease  away  on  her  thumbs  a 
little.  I'll  question  her  mys —  Good  Lucifer  !  "  ex- 
claimed the  captain,  finding  himself  face  to  face  with  hie 
own  mother. 

Twenty-two  lashes  and  the  torture  of  the  strung-uj 
29* 


342  CAPTAIN  LYSANDER'S   JOKE. 

thumbs  had  proved  too  much  even  for  the  strong  nerves 
of  Widow  Sprowl.     She  fell  down  in  a  swoon. 

Lysander,  furious,  whipped  out  his  sword,  and  turned 
upon  the  soldiers.  They  quietly  stepped  back,  and  took 
their  guns  from  the  corner.  He  would  certainly  have 
killed  one  of  them  on  the  spot  had  he  not  seen  by  the 
glance  of  their  eyes  that  the  other  would,  at  the  same 
instant,  as  certainly  have  killed  him. 

"  You  scoundrels !  you  have  whipped  my  own 
mother ! " 

"  Captain,"  they  calmly  answered,  "  we  opey  orders." 

"  Fools  !  "  —  and  Lysander  ground  his  teeth,  —  "  you 
should  have  known  !  " 

"  Captain,"  they  replied,  "  if  you  not  know,  how 
should  we  know  ?  We  never  see  dis  woman  pefore. 
We  come.  We  find  her  taking  prowisions  from  de  house. 
We  say,  '  She  take  dem  to  her  husband  in  de  mountains.' 
We  say,  '  You  Mrs.  Stackridge  ? '  She  say  yes  to 
everyting.  We  not  know  she  lie.  We  not  know  she 
steal.  We  not  say,  '  You  somepody  else.'  We  opey 
orders.  WTe  take  and  we  whip  her.  You  come  in  and 
say,  '  Whip  more.'  We  whip  more.  Now  you  say  to  us, 
'  Scoundrels  ! '  You  say,  '  Fools  ! '  We  say,  '  Captain 
it  was  your  orders  ;  we  opey.'  " 

Having  by  a  joint  effort  at  sententious  English  pro- 
nounced this  speech,  the  brothers  stood  stolidly  awaiting 
the  result ;  while  the  captain,  still  gnashing  his  teeth, 
bent  over  the  prostrate  form  of  his  mother. 


CAPTAIN  LYSANDER' S   JOKE,  343 

"  Bring  some  water  and  throw  on  her  !  you  idiots  !  "  he 
yelled  at  them.  "  Would  you  see  her  die  ?  " 

They  looked  at  each  other.  "  Water  ?  "  Yes,  that 
was  what  was  wanted.  They  remembered  their  practice 
of  the  previous  evening.  One  found  a  wooden  pail.  The 
other  emptied  upon  the  floor  the  contents  of  the  tin  pail 
the  widow  had  "  borrowed/'  They  went  to  the  well. 
They  brought  water.  "  To  throw  on  her  ?  "  Yes,  that 
was  what  he  said.  And  together  they  dashed  a  sudden 
drenching  flood  over  the  poor  woman,  as  if  the  swoon 
were  another  fire  to  be  extinguished. 

These  fellows  obeyed  orders  literally  —  a  merit  which 
Lysander  now  failed  to  appreciate.  He  swore  at  them 
terribly.  But  he  did  not  countermand  his  last  order. 
Accordingly  they  proceeded  stoically  to  bring  more  water. 
Lysander  had  got  his  mother's  head  on  his  knee,  and  she 
had  just  opened  her  eyes  to  look  and  her  mouth  to  gasp, 
when  there  came  another  double  ice-cold  wave,  blinding, 
stifling,  drowning  her.  Too  much  of  water  hadst  thou, 
poor  lone  widow  ! 

Lysander  let  fall  the  maternal  head,  and  bounded  to  his 
feet,  roaring  with  wrath.  The  brothers,  imperturbable, 
with  the  empty  pails  at  their  sides,  stared  at  him  with 
mute  wonder. 

"  Captain,  dat  was  your  orders.  You  say,  '  Pring  vas- 
ser  and  trow  on.'  We  pring  vasser  and  trow  on  Dat 
is  all." 

"  But  I  didn't  tell  you  to  fetch  pailfuls  !  " 


844  CAPTAIN  LYSANDEA'S  JOKE. 

This  sentence  rushed  out  of  Lysatider's  soul  like  a 
rocket,  culminated  in  a  loud,  explosive  oath,  and  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  shower  of  fiery  curses  falling  harmless  on  the 
heads  of  the  unmoved  Teutons. 

They  waited  patiently  until  the  pyrotechnic  rain  ceased, 
then  answered,  speaking  alternately,  each  a  sentence,  is 
if  with  one  mind,  but  with  two  organs. 

"  Captain,  you  hear.  Last  night  vas  de  house  afire. 
You  say,  '  Pring  vasser.'  We  pring  a  little.  Den  you 
say  to  us,  '  Tarn  you  !  why  in  hell  you  shtop  ?  '  And  you 
say,  '  Ven  I  tell  you  pring  vasser,  pring  till  I  say  shtop.' 
Vun  time  more  to-day  you  say,  '  Pring  vasser,'  and  you 
never  say  shtop.  You  say,  '  Trow  on.'  We  trow  on. 
Vat  you  say  we  do.  You  not  say  vat  you  mean,  dat  is 
mishtake  for  you." 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Lysander  listened  meekly 
to  the  end  of  this  speech.  He  had  caught  the  sound  of 
voices  without  that  interested  him  more  ;  and,  looking,  he 
saw  Mrs.  Stackridge  returning,  with  her  children. 

The  Pepperill  young-one  had  faithfully  done  her  errand  ; 
and  the  farmer's  wife,  believing  something  important  was 
meant  by  it,  had  hastened  to  accept  the  singular  and 
urgent  invitation.  But,  arrived  at  the  poor  man's  shanty, 
she  was  astonished  to  find  Mrs.  Pepperill  astonished  to 
see  her.  They  talked  the  matter  over,  questioned  the 
child,  and  finally  concluded  that  Daniel  had  said  some- 
thing quite  different,  which  the  child  had  misunderstood. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Stackridge,  after  sitting  a-while,  "  1 


CAPTAIN  LYSANDEK'S   JOKE.  345 

reckon  I  may  as  well  be  going  back,  for  I've  left  only  old 
Aunt  Deb  to  home,  and  she's  scar't  to  death  to  be  left 
alone  these  times  ;  thinks  the  secesh  soldiers  '11  kill  her. 
But  I  tell  her  not  to  be  afeared  of  'em.  I  ain't !  " 

So  this  woman,  little  knowing  how  much  real  cause 
she  had  to  be  afraid,  returned  home  with  her  family. 
When  near  the  house  she  met  Gaff  and  Jake,  negroes 
belonging  to  the  farm,  who  had  been  in  the  field  at  work, 
running  towards  her,  in  great  terror,  declaring  that  they 
heard  somebody  killing  Aunt  Deb. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  she  ;  and  in  spite  of  their  assur- 
ances and  entreaties,  she  marched  straight  towards  the 
door  through  which  the  captain  saw  her  coming. 

"  Clear  out !  "  said  Lysander  to  the  soldiers.  "  Go  to 
your  quarters.  I'll  have  your  case  attended  to  !  "  This 
was  spoken  very  threateningly.  Then,  as  soon  as  they 
were  out  of  hearing,  he  said  to  Mrs.  Stackridge,  "  I'm 
sorry  to  say  a  couple  of  my  men  have  been  plundering 
your  house.  Them  Dutchmen  you  just  saw  go  out. 
Worse  than  that,  my  mother  was  going  by,  and  she  came 
in  to  save  your  stuff,  and  they,  it  seems,  took  her  for  you, 
and  beat  her.  You  see,  they  have  beat  her  most  to 
death,"  said  Lysander. 

"  Lordy  massy  !  "  said  Mrs.  Stackridge. 

"  Do  help  me  !  do  take  off  my  clo'es  !  a  poor  lone 
widder  !  "  faintly  moaned  Mrs.  Sprowl. 

"  When  I  got  here,"  added  the  captain,  "  she  had 
fainted,  and  they  had  used  her  basket  to  pack  things  in, 
P.S  you  see,  and  filled  this  pail,  which  they  emptied  after- 


346  CAPTAIN  LYS  ADDER'S  JOKE. 

wards,  so  as  to  bring  water  and  fetch  her  to.  Scoun- 
drels !  I'm  glad  they  ain't  native-born  southerners  !  " 

"  And  where  is  Aunt  Deb  ? "  said  Mrs.  Stackridge, 
hastening  to  raise  the  widow  up. 

"  I  dono'  ;  I  hain't  seen  her.  O,  dear,  them  villains  !  " 
groaned  Mrs.  Sprowl.  "  I  was  just  comin'  over  to  borry  a 
few  things,  you  know." 

"  Going  by  ;  she  wasn't  coming  here,"  said  Lysander. 

"  Going  by,"  repeated  the  widow.  "  O,  shall  I  ever 
git  over  it !  O,  dear  me,  I'm  all  cut  to  pieces  !  A  poor 
forlorn  widder,  and  my  only  son  —  O,  dear  !  " 

"  Her  only  son,"  cried  Lysander  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  couldn't  get  here  in  time  to  prevent  the  outrage. 
That's  what  she  wants  to  say.  I  leave  her  in  your  care, 
Mrs.  Stackridge.  She  was  doing  a  neighborly  thing  for 
you  when  she  came  in  to  stop  the  pillaging,  and  I'm  sure 
you'll  do  as  much  for  her." 

And  the  captain  retired,  his  appetite  for  woman- 
whipping  cloyed  for  the  present. 

"  Where  is  Aunt  Deb  ? "  repeated  Mrs.  Stackridge. 
"  Aunt  Deb  !  "  she  called,  "  where  are  you  ?  I  want  you 
this  minute  !  " 

"  Here  I  is  !  "  answered  a  voice  from  heaven,  or  at 
least  from  that  direction. 

It  was  the  voice  of  the  old  negress,  who  had  hid  her- 
self in  the  chambers,  and  now  spoke  through  a  stove-pipe 
hole  from  which  she  had  observed  all  that  was  passing 
from  the  time  when  the  widow  entered  with  her  empty 
basket. 


TRE   MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION.  347 


XXXV. 


THE  MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION. 


OBY  had  been  released.  Mrs.  Stackridge 
had  been  whipped  by  proxy,  and  had  kept 
her  husband's  secret.  Gad,  the  spy,  Avas  still 
unaccountably  absent.  These  three  sources  of  informa- 
tion were,  therefore,  for  the  time,  considered  closed ; 
and  it  was  determined  to  have  recourse  to  the  fourth, 
namely,  Carl. 

Here  it  should,  perhaps,  be  explained  that  the  confed- 
erate government,  informed  of  the  position  of  armed  re- 
sistance assumed  by  the  little  band  of  patriots,  had  im- 
mediately telegraphed  orders  to  recapture  the  insurgents. 
Among  the  Union-loving  mountaineers  of  East  Tennessee 
the  mutterings  of  a  threatened  rebellion  against  the  new- 
despotism  had  long  been  heard,  and  it  was  deemed  ex- 
pedient to  suppress  at  once  this  outbreak. 

"  Try  the  ringleaders  by  drum-head  court-martial, 
and,  if  guilty,  hang  them  on  the  spot,"  said  a  second 
despatch. 


348  THE   MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION, 

These  instructions  were  purposely  made  public,  in 
order  to  strike  terror  among  the  Unionists.  They  were 
discussed  by  the  soldiers,  and  reached  the  ears  of  Carl. 

"  Hang  them  on  the  spot."  That  meant  Stackridge 
and  Penn,  and  he  knew  not  now  many  more.  "  And 
I,"  said  Carl,  "  have  agreed  to  show  the  vay  to  the 
cave." 

He  was  sweating  fearfully  over  the  dilemma  in  which 
he  had  placed  himself,  when  a  sergeant  and  two  men 
came  to  conduct  him  to  head-quarters. 

"  Now  it  begins,"  said  Carl  to  himself,  drawing  a 
deep  breath. 

The  irons  remained  on  his  wrists.  In  this  plight 
he  was  brought  into  the  presence  of  the  red-faced 
colonel. 

"  I  hate  a  damned  Dutchman  ! "  said  Lysander,  who 
happened  to  be  at  head-quarters. 

He  had  had  experience,  and  his  prejudice  was 
natural. 

The  colonel  po^ed  his  cigar,  and  regarded  Carl  sternly. 
The  boy's  heart  'hrobbed  anxiously,  and  he  was  afraid 
that  he  looked  pale.  Nevertheless,  he  stood  calmly 
erect  on  his  sturdy  young  legs,  and  answered  the 
officer's  frown  with  an  expression  of  placid  and  innocent 
wonder. 

"  Your  name  is  Carl,"  said  the  colonel. 

"  I  s*ishpect  that  is  true,"  replied  Carl,  on  his  guard 
making  inadvertent  admissions, 


THE    MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION.  849 

"  Carl  what  ?  " 

"  Minnevich." 

"  Minny-fish  ?  That's  a  scaly  name.  And  they 
say  you  are  a  scaly  fellow.  What  have  you  got  those 
bracelets  on  for  ?  " 

"  That  is  vat  I  should  pe  wery  much  glad  to  find 
out,"  said  Carl,  affectionately  regarding  his  handcuffs. 

"  You  are  the  fellow  that  enlisted  to  save  the  school- 
master's neck,  ain't  you  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  that  is  true  too." 

"Suppose:    Don't  you  know?" 

"  I  thought  I  knowed,  for  you  told  me  so  ;  but  as 
they  vas  hunting  for  him  aftervards  to  hang  him,  I  vas 
conwinced  I  vas  mishtaken." 

This  quiet  reply,  delivered  in  the  lad's  quaint  style, 
with  perfect  deliberation,  and  with  a  countenance  shining 
with  simplicity,  was  in  effect  a  keen  thrust  at  the 
perfidy  of  the  confederate  officers.  The  colonel's  face 
became  a  shade  redder,  if  possible,  and  he  frowningly 
exclaimed,  — 

"  And  so  you  deserted  !  " 

"  That,"  said  Carl,  "  ish  not  quite  so  true." 

"  What !    you  deny  the  fact  ?  " 

"  I  peg  your  pardon,  it  ish  not  a  fact.  I  vas  tools, 
prisoner." 

"  And  do  you  maintain  that  you  did  not  go  will- 
ingly ? " 

"  I    don't    know   just    vat    you    mean    by   viiiingly 


350  THE  MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION. 

Yen  vun  of  them  fellows  puts  his  muzzle  to  my  head 
and  says,  '  You  come  mit  us,  and  make  no  noise  or  1 
plow  out  your  prains,'  I  vas  prewailed  upon  to  go. 
I  vas  more  villing  to  go  as  I  vas  to  have  my  prains 
spilt.  If  that  is  vat  you  mean  by  villing,  I  vas 
villing." 

"  Why  did  they  take  you  prisoner  ?  " 

"  Pecause.  I  vill  tell  you.  Gad  vas  shleeping  like 
thunder  :  you  know  vat  I  mean  —  shnoring.  Nothing 
could  make  him  vake  up  ;  so  they  let  him  shnore.  But 
I  vake  up,  and  they  say,  I  suppose,  they  must  kill  me 
or  take  me  off,  for  if  I  vas  left  pehind  I  vould  raise  the 
alarm  too  soon." 

"  Well,  where  did  they  take  you  ?  " 

Carl  was  silent  a  moment,  then  looking  Colonel 
Derring  full  in  the  face,  he  said  earnestly,  — 

"  They  make  me  shwear  I  vould  not  tell." 

"  Minny-fish,"  said  the  colonel,  "  this  won't  do.  The 
secret  is  out,  and  it  is  too  late  for  you  to  try  to  keep 
it  back.  Toby  betrayed  it.  Mrs.  Stackridge  has  been 
arrested,  and  she  has  confessed  that  her  husband  and 
his  friends  are  hid  in  a  cave.  We  sent  out  a  scout, 
who  has  come  in  and  corroborated  both  their  state- 
ments. Gad  discovered  the  cave  ;  but  he  has  sprained 
his  ankle.  He  describes  the  spot  accurately,  but  he's 
too  lame  to  climb  the  hills  again.  What  we  want 
is  a  guide  to  go  in  his  place.  Now,  Minny-fish,  here's 
a  chance  for  you  to  earn  a  pardon,  and  prove  your 


THE   MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION.  351 

loyalty.  You  promised  Captain  Sprowl,  did  you  not, 
that  you  would  conduct  him  to  the  cave  ?  " 

Carl,  overwhelmed  by  the  colonel's  confident  asser- 
tions, breathed  a  moment,  then  replied,  — 

"  I  pelieve  I  vas  making  him  some  promise." 

"  Notwithstanding  your  oath  that  you  would  not 
tell  ?  "  said  Lysander,  eager  to  cross  and  corner  him. 

"  To  show  the  vay,  that  is  not  to  tell,"  replied  Carl. 
"  I  shwore  I  vould  not  tell,  and  I  shall  not  tell.  But 
if  you  vill  go  mit  me  to  the  cave,  I  vill  go  mit  you  and 
take  you.  Then  I  keep  my  promise  to  you  and  my 
oath  to  them.  You  see,  I  did  not  shwear  not  to  take 
you,"  he  added,  with  a  smile. 

With  a  smile  on  his  face,  but  with  profound  perturba- 
tions of  the  soul.  For  he  saw  himself  sinking  deeper 
and  deeper  into  this  miry  difficulty,  and  how  he  was  to 
extricate  himself  without  dragging  his  friends  down,  was 
still  a  terrible  enigma. 

"  I  believe  the  boy  is  honest,"  said  Derring.  "  Ser- 
geant, have  those  irons  taken  off.  Captain  Sprowl, 
you  will  manage  the  affair,  and  take  this  boy  as  your 
guide.  I  advise  you  to  trust  him.  But  until  he  has 
thoroughly  proved  his  honesty,  keep  a  careful  eye  on 
him,  and  if  you  become  convinced  that  he  is  deceiving 
you,  shoot  him  down  on  the  spot.  I  say,  shoot 
him  on  the  spot,"  repeated  the  colonel,  impressively. 
"  You  both  understand  that.  Do  you,  Minny-fish  ?  " 

**  I   vas   never    shot,"    said    Carl,   "  but  I  sushpect   I 


352  THE  MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION. 

know  vat  shooting  is."  And  he  smiled  again,  with 
trouble  in  his  heart,  that  would  have  quite  disconcerted 
a  youth  of  less  nerve  and  phlegm. 

"  Well,"  said  Captain  Sprowl,  "  if  you  don't,  you 
will  know,  if  you  undertake  to  play  any  of  your  Dutch 
tricks  with  me  !  " 

"  O,  sir ! "  said  Carl,  humbly,  "  if  I  knowed  any 
trick  I  vouldn't  ever  think  of  playing  it  on  you,  you 
are  so  wery  shmart !  " 

"  How  do  you  know  I  am  ? "  said  Lysander,  who 
felt  flattered,  and  thought  it  would  be  interesting  to  hear 
the  lad's  reasons  ;  for  neither  he,  nor  any  one  present, 
hud  perceived  the  craft  and  sarcasm  concealed  under 
that  simple,  earnest  manner. 

"  How  do  I  know  you  are  shmart  ?  Pecause,"  re- 
plied Carl,  "  you  have  such  a  pig  head.  And  such  a 
pig  nose.  And  such  a  pig  mouth.  That  shows  you 
are  a  pig  man." 

This  was  said  with  an  air  of  intense  seriousness,  which 
never  changed  amid  the  peals  of  laughter  that  followed. 
Nobody  suspected  Carl  of  an  intentional  joke  ;  and  the 
round-eyed  innocent  surprise  with  which  he  regarded 
the  merriment  added  hugely  to  the  humor  of  it.  Every- 
body laughed  except  Lysander,  who  only  grimaced  a 
little  to  disguise  his  chagrin.  This  upstart  officer  was 
greatly  disliked  for  his  conceited  ways,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  the  "  Dutch  boy's  compliments "  became 
the  joke  of  the  camp,  and  wherever  Lysander  appeared 


THE    MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION.  353 

some  whisper  was  sure  to  be  heard  concerning  either  the 
"  pig  mouth,"  or  "  pig  nose,"  of  that  truly  "  pig  man." 

As  for  Carl,  he  had  something  far  more  serious  to  do 
than  to  laugh.  How  to  circumvent  the  designs  of  these 
men?  That  was  the  question. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  necessary  to  state  that  his  con- 
science acquitted  him  entirely  of  all  obligations  to  them 
or  their  cause.  He  was  no  secessionist.  He  had  en- 
listed to  save  his  benefactor  and  friend.  He  had  said, 
"  I  will  give  you  my  services  if  you  will  give  that  man 
his  life."  They  had  immediately  afterwards  broken  the 
contract  by  seeking  to  kill  his  friend,  and  he  felt  that  he 
no  longer  owed  them  anything.  But  they  held  him  by 
force,  against  which  he  had  no  weapon  but  his  own  good 
wit.  This,  therefore,  he  determined  to  use,  if  possible, 
to  their  discomfiture,  and  the  salvation  of  those  to  whom 
he  owed  everything.  But  how  ? 

He  had  saved  Toby  from  torture  and  confession  by 
promising  what  he  never  intended  literally  to  perform. 

Once  more  in  the  guard-house,  retained  a  prisoner  un- 
til wanted  as  a  guide,  he  reasoned  with  himself  thus  :  — 

"  If  I  do  not  go,  then  they  vill  make  Gad  go,  lame  or 
no  lame,  and  he  vill  not  be  half  so  lucky  to  show  the 
wrong  road  as  I  can  be  ;  "  —  for  Carl  never  suspected  that 
what  had  been  said  with  regard  to  Mrs.  Stackridge's 
arrest  and  confession,  and  Gad's  successful  re'connoissance 
and  return,  was  all  a  lie  framed  to  induce  him  to  under- 
take this  very  thing.  "  And  if  I  did  net  make  pelieve 
30* 


354  THE   MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION. 

I  vas  villing  to  go,  then  they  vould  not  give  me  my  hands 
free,  and  some  chances  for  myself.  I  think  there  viii  be 
some  chances.  But  Sprowl  is  to  watch,  and  be  ready 
to  shoot  me  down  ?  "  He  shook  his  head  dubiously,  and 
added,  "  That  is  vat  I  do  not  like  quite  so  veil ! " 

He  remained  in  a  deep  study  until  dusk.  Then  Cap- 
tain Sprowl  appeared,  and  said  to  him,  — 

"  Come!  you  are  to  go  with  me." 

Carl's  heart  gave  a  great  bound ;  but  he  answered 
with  an  air  of  indifference, — 

"  To-night  ? " 

"  Yes.     At  once.     Stir  !  " 

"  I  have  not  quite  finished  my  supper ;  but  I  can  put 
some  of  it  in  my  pockets,  and  be  eating  on  the  road." 
And  he  added  to  himself,  "  I  am  glad  it  is  in  the  night, 
for  that  vill  be  a  wery  good  excuse  if  I  should  be  so 
misfortunate  as  not  to  find  the  cave  !  " 

"  Here,"  said  Lysander,  imperiously,  giving  him  a  twi&t 
and  push,  —  "  march  before  me  !  And  fast !  Now,  not 
a  word  unless  you  are  spoken  to  ;  and  don't  you  dodge 
unless  you  want  a  shot." 

Thus  instructed,  Carl  led  the  way.  He  did  not  speak, 
and  he  did  not  dodge.  One  circumstance  overjoyed  him. 
He  saw  no  signs  of  a  military  expedition  on  foot.  Was 
Lysander  going  alone  with  him  to  the  mountains  ?  "I 
sushpect  I  can  find  some  trick  for  him,  shmart  as  he  is  ! " 
thought  Carl. 

They  left  the  town  behind  them.     They  took  to  the 


THE   MOONLIGHT   EXPEDITION.  355 

fields ;  they  entered  the  shadow  of  the  mountains,  the 
western  sky  above  whose  tops  was  yet  silvery  bright  with 
the  shining  wake  of  the  sunset.  A  few  faint  stars  were 
visible,  and  just  a  glimmer  of  moonlight  was  becoming 
apparent  in  the  still  twilight  gloom. 

"  We  are  going  to  have  a  quiet  little  adwenture  to- 
gether ! "  chuckled  Carl.  One  thing  was  singular,  how- 
ever. Lysander  did  not  tamely  follow  his  lead :  on  the 
contrary,  he  directed  him  where  to  go ;  and  Carl  saw,  to 
his  dismay,  that  they  were  proceeding  in  a  very  direct 
route  towards  the  cave. 

"  Never  mind  !  Ven  ve  come  to  some  conwenient 
place  maybe  something  vill  happen,"  he  said  consolingly 
to  himself. 

Then  suddenly  consternation  met  him,  as  it  were  face 
to  face.  The  enigma  was  solved.  From  the  crest  of  a 
knoll  over  which  Lysander  drove  him  like  a  lamb,  he  saw, 
lying  on  the  ground  in  a  little  glen  before  them,  the  dark 
forms  of  some  forty  men. 

One  of  these  rose  to  his  feet  and  advanced  to  meet 
Lysander.  It  was  Silas  Ropes. 

"  All  ready  ?  "  said  Sprowl. 

"  Ready  and  waiting,"  said  Silas. 

"  Well,  push  on,"  said  the  captain.  "  We'll  go  to  the 
dead  bodies  in  the  ravine  first.  Where's  Pepperill  ?  " 

"  Here,"  replied  Ropes ;  and  at  a  summons  Dan  ap- 
peared. 

Carl's  heart  sank  within  him.     Toby  in  the  guard-house 


356  THE    MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION. 

had  told  him  about  the  dead  bodies,  and  he  knew  that 
they  were  not  far  from  the  cave.  He  was  aware,  too, 
that  Pepperill  knew  far  more  than  one  of  such  shallow 
mental  resources  and  feeble  will,  wearing  that  uniform, 
and  now  in  the  power  of  these  men,  ought  to  know. 

There  in  the  little  moonlit  glen  they  met  and  exchanged 
glances  —  the  sturdy,  calm-faced  boy,  and  the  weak- 
kneed,  trembling  man.  Pepperill  had  not  recovered  from 
the  terror  with  which  he  had  been  inspired,  when  sum- 
moned to  guide  a  reconnoitring  party  to  the  ravine.  But 
he  had  not  yet  lisped  a  syllable  of  what  he  knew  concern- 
ing the  cave.  Carl  gave  him  a  look,  and  turned  his  eyes 
away  again  indifferently.  That  look  said.  "  Be  wery  care- 
ful, Dan,  and  leave  a  good  deal  to  me."  And  Dan,  man 
as  he  was,  felt  somehow  encouraged  and  strengthened  by 
the  presence  of  this  boy. 

"  Now,  Peppevill,"  said  Sprowl,  "  can  you  move  ahead 
and  make  no  mistake  ?  " 

"I  kin  try,"  answered  Pepperill,  dismally.  "But  it's  a 
heap  harder  to  find  the  way  in  the  night  so  ;  durned  if 
'tain't ! " 

"  None  o'  that,  now,  Dan,"  said  Ropes,  "  or  you'll  git 
sunthin'  to  put  sperrit  inter  ye  !  " 

Dan  made  no  reply,  but  shivered.  The  mountain  air 
was  chill,  the  prospect  dreary.  Close  by,  the  woods, 
blackened  by  the  recent  fire,  lay  shadowy  and  spectral 
in  the  moon.  Far  above,  the  dim  summits  towards  which 
their  course  lay  whitened  silently.  There  was  no  noise 


THE   MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION.  357 

but  the  low  murmur  of  these  men,  bent  on  bloody  pur- 
poses. No  wonder  Dan's  teeth  chattered. 

As  for  Carl,  he  killed  a  mosquito  on  his  cheek,  and 
smiled  triumphantly. 

"  You  got  a  shlap,  you  warmint  !  "  he  said,  as  if  he 
had  no  other  care  on  his  mind  than  the  insect's  slaughter. 

"Who  told  you  to  speak?"  said  Lysander  sharply. 

"  Vas  that  shpeaking  ? "  Carl  scratched  his  cheek 
complacently.  "  I  vas  only  making  a  little  obserwation 
to  the  mosquito." 

"  Well,  keep  your  observations  to  yourself!  " 

"  That  is  vat  I  vill  try  to  do." 

The  order  to  march  was  given.  Lysander  proceeded  a 
few  paces  in  advance,  accompanied  by  Ropes  and  the  two 
guides.  The  troops  followed  in  silence,  with  dull,  irregular 
tramp,  filing  through  obscure  hollows,  over  barren  ridges 
crowned  by  a  few  thistles  and  mulleins,  and  by  the  edges 
of  thickets  which  the  fires  had  not  reached.  At  length 
they  came  to  a  tract  of  the  burned  woods.  The  word 
"  halt ! "  was  whispered.  The  sound  of  tramping  feet 
was  suddenly  hushed,  and  the  slender  column  of  troops, 
-winding  like  a  dark  serpent  up  the  side  of  the  mountain, 
became  motionless. 

"  All  right  so  far,  Pepperill  ?  " 

"  Wai,  I  hain't  made  nary  mistake  yet,  cap'm." 

Pepperill  recognized  the  woods  in  which,  when  flying 
to  the  cave  with  Virginia,  Penn,  and  Cudjo,  they  had 
found  themselves  surrounded  by  fires. 


358  THE   MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION. 

"  How  far  is  it  now  to  your  ravine  ?  " 

"  Nigh  on  to  half  a  mile,  I  reckon." 

"  Shall  we  go  through  these  woods  ?  " 

"  It's  the  nighest  to  go  through  'em.  But  I  s'pose  we 
can  git  around  if  we  try." 

"  The  moon  sets  early.  We'd  better  take  the  nearest 
way,"  said  the  captain.  "  Well,  Dutchy,"  —  for  the  first 
time  deigning  to  consult  Carl,  —  "this  route  is  taking 
us  to  the  cave,  too,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  Wery  certain,"  said  Carl,  "  prowided  you  go  far 
enough,  and  turn  often  enough,  and  never  lose  the  vay." 

"  That'll  be  your  risk,  Dutchy.  Look  out  for  the  land- 
marks, so  that  when  Pepperill  stops  you  can  keep  on." 

"  I  vill  look  out,  but  if  they  have  all  been  purnt  up 
since  I  vas  here,  how  wery  wexing  ! " 

This  wood  had  been  but  partially  consumed  when  the 
flames  were  checked  by  the  rain.  Many  trunks  were  still 
standing,  naked,  charred,  stretching  their  black  despairing 
arms  to  the  moon.  The  shadows  of  these  ghostly  trees 
slanted  along  the  silent  field  of  desolation,  or  lay  entan- 
gled with  the  dark  logs  and  limbs  of  trees  which  had 
fallen,  and  from  which,  at  short  distances,  they  were 
scarcely  distinguishable.  Here  and  there  smouldered  a 
heap  of  rubbish,  its  pallid  smoke  rising  noiselessly  in  the 
bluish  light.  There  were  heaps  of  ashes  still  hot ;  half- 
burned  brands  sparkled  in  the  darkness  ;  and  now  and 
then  a  stump  or  branch  emitted  a  still  bright  flame. 

Through  this   scene   of   blackness  and  ruin,   rendered 


THE   MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION.  359 

gloomily  picturesque  by  the  moonlight,  the  men  picked 
their  way.  Not  a  word  was  spoken ;  but  occasionally  a 
muttered  curse  told  that  some  ill-protected  foot  had  come 
in  contact  with  live  cinders,  or  that  some  unlucky  leg  had 
slumped  down  into  one  of  those  mines  of  fire,  formed  by 
roots  of  old  dead  stumps,  eaten  slowly  away  to  ashes  undei 
ground. 

Carl  had  hoped  that  the  Avoods  would  prove  impassable, 
and  that  the  party  would  be  compelled  to  turnback.  That 
would  gain  for  him  time  and  opportunity.  But  the  men 
pushed  on.  "  Vill  nothing  happen  ?  "  he  said  to  himself, 
in  despair  at  seeing  how  directly  they  were  travelling 
towards  the  cave.  The  burned  tract  was  not  extensive,  and 
he  soon  saw,  glimmering  through  the  blackened  columns, 
the  clear  moonlight  on  the  slopes  above. 

Pepperill,  not  daring  to  assume  the  responsibility  of 
misleading  the  party,  knew  no  better  than  to  go  stumbling 
straight  on. 

"  I  vish  he  would  shtumple  and  preak  his  shtupid 
neck  !  "  thought  Carl. 

They  emerged  from  the  burned  woods,  and  came  out 
upon  the  ledges  beyond ;  and  now  the  lad  saw  plainly 
where  they  were.  On  the  left,  the  deep  and  quiet  gulf 
of  shadow  was  the  ravine.  They  had  but  to  follow  this 
up,  he  knew  not  just  how  far,  to  reach  the  cave.  And 
still  Pepperill  advanced.  Carl's  heart  contracted.  He 
knew  that  the  critical  moment  of  the  night,  for  him  and 
for  his  fugitive  friends,  was  now  at  hand. 


36D"  THE   MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION. 

"  Do  you  see  any  landmarks  yet  ?  "  Sprowl  whispered 
to  him. 

"  I  can  almost  see  some,"  answered  Carl,  peering  ear- 
nestly over  a  moonlit  bushy  space.  "  Ve  shall  pe  coming 
to  them  py  and  py." 

"  Do  you  know  this  ravine  ?  " 

"  I  remember  some  rav/ines.  I  shouldn't  be  wery  much 
surprised  if  this  vas  vun  of  'em." 

"  Look  here,"  said  Lysander.  Carl  looked,  and  saw  a 
pistol-barrel.  "  Understand  ?  "  —  significantly. 

"Is  it  for  me  ? ''  And  Carl  extended  his  hand  ingen- 
uously. 

"  For  you  ?  —  yes."  But  instead  of  giving  the  weapon 
to  the  boy,  he  returned  it  to  his  pocket,  with  a  smile  the 
boy  did  not  like. 

"  Ah,  yes !  a  goot  joke  !  "  And  Carl  smiled  too,  his 
good-humored  face  beaming  in  the  moon. 

At  the  same  time  he  said  to  himself,  "  He  hates  me 
pecause  1  am  Hapgood's  friend;  and  he  vill  be  much 
pleased  to  have  cause  to  shoot  me." 

Just  then  Dan  stopped.  Lysander  put  up  his  hand  as 
a  signal.  The  troops  halted. 

"  It's  somewhars  down  in  hyar,  cap'm,"  Pepperill 
whispered. 

"  It's  a  horrid  place  !  "  muttered  Sprowl. 

"  It  ar  so,  durned  if  'tain't !  "  said  Dan,  discouragingly. 

Before  them  yawned  the  ravine,  bristling  with  half- 
burned  saplings,  and  but  partially  illumined  by  the  moon. 


THE  MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION.       361 

The  babble  of  the  brook  flowing  through  its  hidden  depths 
was  faintly  audible. 

"  See  the  bodies  anywhere  ?  "   said  Lysander. 

"  Can't  see  ary  thing  by  this  light,"  replied  Dan.  "  But 
we  can  go  down  and  find  'em." 

Sprowl  did  not  much  fancy  the  idea  of  descending. 

"  It  will  be  a  waste  of  time  to  stop  here,"  he  said  to 
Silas.  "  The  live  traitors  are  of  more  consequence  than 
the  dead  ones.  Supposing  we  go  to  the  cave  first,  and 
come  back  and  find  the  bodies  afterwards.  Have  you  got 
your  bearings  yet,  Carl  ?" 

"  I  am  peginning,"  said  Carl,  staring  about  him,  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets.  "  I  think  I  vill  have  'em  soon." 

Sprowl  looked  at  him  \vith  suppressed  rage.  "  How 
cussed  provoking  !  "  he  muttered. 

"  It  is  —  wery  prowoking  !  "  said  Carl,  looking  at  the 
moon.  "  Aggrawating  !  " 

"  Well,  make  up  your  mind  quick  !  What  will  you  do  ?  " 

Then  it  seemed  as  if  a  bright  idea  occurred  to  Carl. 

"  I  vill  tell  you.  You  go  down  and  find  the  podies, 
and  I  vill  be  looking.  Ven  you  come  up  again,  I  shouldn't 
be  surprised  if  I  could  see  vair  the  cave  is." 

"  Ropes,"  said  Sprowl,  "  take  a  couple  of  men,  and  go 
down  in  there  with  Pepperill.  I  think  it's  best  to  stay 
with  this  boy." 

This  arrangement  did  not  please  Carl  at  all ;  but,  as  he 
could  not  reasonably   complain  of  it,  he  said,  stoically, 
"  Yes,  it  vill  be  petter  so." 
31 


362  THE   MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION. 

Ropes  selected  his  two  men,  and  left  the  rest  concealed 
in  the  shadows  of  the  thickets. 

"  If  I  could  go  up  on  the  rocks  there,  I  suppose  I  could 
see  something,"  said  Carl. 

"  Well,  I'll  go  with  you.  I  mean  to  give  you  a  fair 
chance."  Carl  felt  a  secret  hope.  Once  more  alone  with 
this  villain,  would  not  some  interesting  thing  occur  ? 
"  "Wait,  though  !  "  said  Sprowl ;  and  he  called  a  corporal 
to  his  side.  "  Come  with  us.  Keep  close  to  this  boy. 
At  the  first  sign  of  his  giving  us  the  slip,  put  your  bayonet 
through  him." 

"  I  will,"  said  the  corporal. 

This  was  discouraging  again.  But  Carl  looked  up  at 
the  captain  and  smiled  —  his  good-humored,  placid  smile. 

"  You  do  right.  But  you  vill  see  I  shall  not  give  you 
the  shlip.  Now  come,  and  be  wery  still." 

In  the  mean  time,  Pepperill,  with  the  three  rebels,  de- 
scended into  the  ravine.  The  spot  where  the  dead  man 
and  horse  had  been  was  soon  found.  But  now  no  dead 
man  was  to  be  seen.  The  horse  had  been  removed  from 
the  rocks  between  which  his  back  was  wedged,  and  rolled 
down  lower  into  the  ravine.  A  broad,  shallow  hole  had 
been  dug  there,  as  if  to  bury  him.  But  the  work  had 
been  interrupted.  There  was  a  shovel  lying  on  the  heap 
of  earth.  Near  by  was  another  spot  where  the  soil  had 
been  recently  stirred  —  a  little  mound :.  it  was  shaped  like 
a  grave. 

"  They've  buried  the  poor  cuss  hyar,"  said  Dan. 

"  We'll  see."     Ropes   took  the  shovel.     "  They  can't 


THE   MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION.  363 

have  put  him  in  very  deep,  fur  they've  struck  the  rock  in 
this  yer  t'other  hole." 

He  threw  up  a  little  dirt,  then  gave  the  shovel  to  one 
of  the  soldiers.  The  moon  shone  full  upon  the  place. 
The  man  dug  a  few  minutes,  and  came  to  something 
which  was  neither  rock  nor  soil.  He  pulled  it  up.  It 
was  a  man's  arm. 

"You  didn't  guess  fur  from  right  this  time,  Dan! 
Scrape  off  a  little  more  dirt,  and  we'll  haul  up  the  carcass. 
Needn't  be  partic'lar  'bout  scrapin'  very  keerful,  nuther. 
He's  a  mean  shoat,  whoever  he  is ;  one  o'  them  cussed 
Union-shriekers.  Wish  they  was  all  planted  like  he  is  ! 
Hope  we  shall  find  five  or  six  more.  Ketch  holt,  Dan  ! " 

Dan  caught  hold.  The  body  was  dragged  from  tht 
lonely  resting-place  to  which  it  had  been  consigned. 
Parts  of  it,  which  had  not  been  protected  by  the  superin- 
cumbent bulk  of  ths  horse,  were  hideously  burned.  Ropes 
rolled  it  over  on  the  back,  and  kicked  it,  to  knock  off  the 
dirt.  He  turned  up  the  face  in  the  moonlight  —  a  fright- 
ful face  !  One  side  was  roasted ;  and  what  was  left  of  the 
hair  and  beard  was  full  of  sand. 

"  Damn  him ! "  said  Ropes,  giving  it  a  wipe  with  the 
spade. 

The  eyes  were  open,  and  they  too  were  full  of  sand. 

But  the  features  were  still  recognizable.  The  men 
started  back  with  horror.  They  knew  their  comrade.  It 
was  the  spy  who  had  been  sent  out  to  watch  the  fugitives. 
It  was  "  the  sleeper,"  whom  nought  could  waken  more 
It  was  Gad. 


364  THE  MOONLIGHT  EXPEDITION. 

"  Wai,  if  I  ain't  beat !  "  said  Silas,  with  a  ghastly  look. 
'*  Fool !  how  did  he  come  hyar  ?  " 

This  question  has  never  been  satisfactorily  answered. 
The  fatal  leap  of  the  terrified  horse  with  his  rider  is 
known ;  but  how  came  Gad  on  the  horse  ?  Those  who 
knew  the  character  of  the  man  account  for  it  in  this  way  : 
He  had  been  something  of  a  horse-thief  in  his  day ;  and 
it  is  supposed  that,  finding  Stackridge's  horse  on  the 
mountain,  he  fell  once  more  into  temptation.  He  was 
probably  a  little  drunk  at  the  time ;  and  he  was  a  man 
who  would  never  walk  if  he  could  ride,  especially  when  he 
was  tipsy.  So  he  mounted.  But  he  had  no  sooner  com- 
menced the  descent  of  the  mountain,  than  the  fire,  which 
had  been  previously  concealed  from  the  animal  by  the 
clump  of  trees  behind  which  he  was  hampered,  burst  upon 
his  sight,  and  filled  him  with  uncontrollable  frenzy. 

Dan,  who  had  witnessed  the  flight  and  plunge,  could 
have  contributed  an  item  towards  the  solution  of  the  mys- 
tery. But  he  opened  not  his  mouth. 

"  Them  cussed  traitors  shall  pay  fur  this  !  "  said  Ropes. 
This  was  the  only  consolatory  thought  that  occurred  to 
him.  Having  uttered  it,  he  looked  remorsefully  at  the 
spade  with  which  he  had  rudely  wiped  the  face  of  his 
dead  friend.  "  I  thought  'twas  one  o'  them  rotten  scoun- 
drels, or  I  —  But  never  mind  !  Kiver  him  up  agin,  boys  ! 
We  can't  take  him  with  us,  and  we've  no  time  to  lose." 

So  they  laid  the  corpse  once  more  in  the  grave,  and 
heaped  the  sand  upon  it. 


CAUL    FINDS  A    GEOLOGICAL    SPECIMEN.     365 


XXXVI. 


CARL  FINDS  A   GEOLOGICAL   SPECIMEN. 


N  the  mean  time  Carl  ascended  the  moonlit 
slope,  with  Sprawl's  pistol  on  one  side  of 
him,  and  the  corporal's  bayonet  on  the  other. 
Between  the  two  he  felt  that  he  had  little  chance.  But 
he  did  not  despair.  He  reasoned  thus  with  himself :  — 

"  These  two  men  vill  not  think  to  take  the  cave  alone. 
They  must  go  back  for  retinfor cements.  That  shall  make 
a  diwersion  in  my  favor.  If  I  show  them  some  dark 
place,  and  make  them  think  it  is  there,  they  vill  not  go 
wery  near  to  examine."  And  he  arrived  at  this  con- 
clusion :  "  I  suppose  I  shall  inwent  a  cave." 

They  were  advancing  cautiously  towards  the  summit 
of  a  bushy  ridge.  Suddenly  Carl  stopped. 

"  Anything  ? "  said  Sprowl.  Carl  nodded,  with  a 
pleased  and  confident  smile.  "  What  ?  " 

"  You  shall  see  wery  soon.  Shtoop  low."  He  himselt 
crouched  close  to  the  ground.  The  men  followed  his 
example.  "  Come  a  little  more  on.  Now  you  see 


366      CARL    FINDS  A    GEOLOGICAL    SPECIMEN. 

that  rock  ? "  Lysander  saw  it.  "  Veil,  it  is  not 
there." 

They  crept  forward  a  little  farther.  Then  Carl  stopped 
again,  and  said,  — 

"  You  see  that  tree  ?  " 

"  Which  ?  " 

"  All  alone  in  the  moonshine."     Lysander  perceived  it. 

"  Veil,"  said  Carl,  "  it  is  not  there." 

Again  they  advanced,  and  again  he  paused  and  pointed. 

"  You  see  them  little  saplings  ? "  Lysander  distin- 
guished them  revealed  against  the  sky. 

"  Veil,"  said  Carl,  "  it  is  not  there  neither." 

He  was  crawling  on  again,  when  Sprowl  seized  his 
collar. 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  mean  ?  —  if  I  see  these 
things  !  " 

Carl  turned  on  his  side,  smiled  intelligently,  and,  beck- 
oning the  captain  to  bring  his  ear  close,  put  his  lips  to  it, 
covered  them  with  his  hand,  with  an  air  of  secrecy,  and 
whispered  hoarsely,  — 

"  LANDMARKS  !  " 

"  Ah  !  well !  "  said  Lysander,  suffering  him  to  proceed. 

Carl  crept  slowly,  raising  his  head  at  every  moment  to 
observe.  The  bayonet  came  behind ;  the  captain  con- 
tinued at  his  side.  "  The  further  I  take  these  willains 
from  the  others,  the  petter,"  thought  he.  At  length  he 
came  in  view  of  the  high  ledge  upon  which  Penn  had 
discovered  Cudjo  at  his  idolatrous  devotions,  on  the  night 


CAUL    FINDS   A     GEOLOGICAL    SPECIMEN.     367 

of  the  fire.  The  moon  was  getting  behind  the  mountain, 
and  there  were  dark  shadows  beneath  this  ledge.  Though 
he  should  travel  a  mile,  he  might  not  find  a  more  suitable 
spot  to  locate  his  fictitious  cave.  He  hesitated ;  con- 
sidered well ;  then  gently  tapped  Lysander's  arm. 

"  You  see  vair  the  rock  comes  down  ?  And  some 
pushes  just  under  it?  Veil,  the  cave  is  pehind  the 
pushes,  ven  you  find  it !  "  Which  was  indeed  true. 

Lysander  crept  a  few  paces  nearer,  stealthily,  flat  on 
his  belly,  with  his  head  slightly  elevated,  like  a  dark  rep- 
tile gliding  over  the  moonlit  ground. 

"  Now  is  my  time ! "  thought  Carl.  His  heart  beat 
violently.  He  raised  himself  on  his  knees,  preparing  to 
spring.  Lysander  was  at  least  ten  feet  in  advance  of 
him,  and  he  thought  he  would  risk  the  pistol.  "  I  run  — 
he  fires  —  he  vill  miss  me  —  I  shall  get  avay."  But  the 
corporal  ?  Just  then  he  felt  a  piercing  pressure  in  his 
side.  It  was  the  corporal,  nudging  him  with  the  bayonet 
to  make  him  lie  down. 

"  I  vas  shust  going  a  little  nearer." 

The  corporal  seemed  satisfied  with  the  explanation; 
but,  as  the  boy  advanced  on  his  hands  and  knees,  he 
advanced  close  behind  him,  —  holding  the  bayoneted  gun 
ready  for  a  thrust. 

So  Carl  succeeded  only  in  getting  a  little  nearer  Ly- 
sander, without  increasing  at  all  the  distance  between  him 
and  the  corporal.  It  was  a  state  of  affairs  that  required 
serious  consideration.  He  lay  down  again,  and  pretended 


368      CARL    FINDS   A    GEOLOGICAL    SPECIMEN. 

to  be  anxiously  looking  for  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  whilst 
watching  and  reflecting. 

Just  then  occurred  a  circumstance  which  seemed  al- 
most providentially  designed  to  favor  the  boy's  strategy. 
Upon  the  ledge  appeared  two  human  figures,  male  and 
female,  touched  by  the  moonlight,  and  defined  against  the 
sky.  They  remained  but  a  moment  on  the  summit,  then 
began  to  descend  in  the  shadow  of  the  ledge.  Their 
movements  were  slow,  uncertain,  mysterious.  Below  the 
base  of  the  rock  they  stood  once  more  in  the  moonlight, 
and  after  appearing  to  consult  together  for  a  few  seconds, 
disappeared  behind  the  bushes  where  Carl  had  placed  his 
imaginary  cave. 

If  Sprowl  had  any  doubts  on  the  subject  before,  hs 
was  now  entirely  satisfied.  He  believed  the  forms  to  be 
those  of  Virginia  and  the  schoolmaster  ;  they  had  been 
out  to  enjoy  solitude  and  sentiment  in  the  moonlight ; 
and  now  they  were  returning  reluctantly  to  the  cave. 

"  Wouldn't  Gus  be  edified  if  he  was  in  my  place ! " 
Lysander  little  thought  that  he  was  the  one  to  be  edified, 
—  as  he  Avould  certainly  have  been,  to  an  amazing  degree, 
had  he  known  the  truth.  "  But  we'll  spoil  their  fun  in 
a  few  minutes !  "  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  crept  back 
towards  his  former  position. 

As  for  Carl,  it  was  he  who  had  been  most  astonished  by 
the  phenomenon.  No  sooner  had  he  invented  a  cave, 
than  two  phantoms  made  their  appearance,  and  walked 
into  it !  The  illusion  was  so  perfect,  that  he  himself  was 


CAUL    FINDS   A    GEOLOGICAL    SPECIMEN.     369 

almost  deceived  by  it.  Only  for  an  instant,  however. 
Continuing  to  gaze,  he  had  another  glimpse  of  the  appa- 
ritions, when,  having  merely  passed  behind  the  bushes, 
they  came  out  beyond  them,  in  the  direction  of  the  real 
cave,  and  were  lost  once  more  in  shadow.  Lysander, 
engaged  in  making  his  retrograde  movement,  did  not  no- 
tice this  very  important  circumstance ;  and  the  corporal 
was  too  intently  occupied  in  watching  Carl  to  observe 
anything  else. 

The  captain  got  behind  the  shelter  of  a  cluster  of  this- 
tles, and  beckoned  for  the  two  to  approach. 

"  Corporal,"  said  he,  "  hurry  back  and  tell  Ropes  to 
bring  up  his  men.  I'll  wait  here." 

The  corporal  crawled  off. 

Carl  heard  the  order,  saw  the  movement,  and  felt 
thrilled  to  the  heart's  core  with  joy.  He  was  now  alone 
with  the  captain.  And  he  was  no  longer  unarmed.  In 
creeping  towards  the  thistles,  he  had  laid  his  hand  on  a 
wonderful  little  stone.  Somehow,  his  fingers  had  closed 
upon  it.  It  was  about  the  size  of  an  apple,  slightly  flat- 
tened, rough,  and  heavy.  "  I  thought,"  he  said  after- 
wards, "  if  anything  vas  to  happen,  that  stone  might  be 
waluable."  And  so  it  proved.  Lysander,  considering 
that  the  cave  was  found,  had  become  less  suspicious. 
"  These  Dutch  are  stupid,  and  that's  all,"  he  thought. 

"  You  vas  going  to  shoot  me,"  said  Carl,  with  an  hon- 
est laugh  at  the  ludicrousness  of  the  idea. 

"  And  so  I  would,"  said  Sprowl,  with  an  oath,  "  if  you 
hadn't  brought  us  to  the  cave." 


370     VARL   FINDS  A    GEOLOGICAL    SPECIMEN. 

"  That  means,"  thought  Carl,  "  he  vill  kill  me  yet  if 
he  can,  ven  he  finds  out."  He  observed,  also,  that 
Sprawl,  lying  on  his  left  side,  had 'his  right  hand  free,  and 
near  the  pocket  where  his  pistol  was.  It  was  not  yet  too 
late  for  him  to  be  shot  if  he  attempted  an  escape  without 
first  attempting  something  else.  The  violent  beating  of 
his  heart  recommenced.  He  felt  a  strange  tremor  of 
excitement  thrilling  through  every  nerve.  His  hand  still 
held  the  pebble,  covering  and  concealing  it  as  he  leaned 
forward  on  the  ground.  He  crept  a  little  nearer  Ly- 
sander. 

"  The  vay  they  go  into  the  cave,"  he  said,  "  is  wery 
queer." 

"  How  so  ?  "  asked  the  captain. 

They  were  facing  each  other.  Carl  drew  still  a  little 
nearer,  and  raised  himself  slightly  on  the  hand  that 
grasped  the  geological  specimen. 

"  I  promised  to  take  you  in.  I  vill  take  you  in  on 
vun  condition." 

"  Condition  ?  "  repeated  Lysander. 

"  That  is  vat  I  said.  Vun  leetle  condition.  Let  me 
whishper." 

Carl  put  up  his  left  hand  as  if  to  cover  the  communi- 
cation he  was  about  to  breathe  into  Lysander's  ear. 

"  The  condition  —  is  THIS  !  " 

As  he  uttered  the  last  words,  he  seized  Lysander's 
wrist  with  his  left  hand,  and  at  the  same  instant,  with  a 
stroke  rapid  as  lightning,  smote  him  on  the  temple  with 
the  stone. 


CAJtL   FINDS   A    GEOLOGICAL    SPECIMEN.      371 

All  this,  being  interpreted,  meant,  "  I  take  you  to  the 
cave  on  condition  that  you  go  as  my  prisoner."  Thus 
Carl  designed  to  keep  his  promise. 

As  he  struck  he  sprang  up,  to  be  ready  for  any  emer- 
gency. He  had  expected  a  struggle,  an  outcry.  He  never 
dreamed  that  he  could  strike  a  man  dead  with  a  single 
blow ! 

Without  a  shriek,  without  even  a  moan,  Lysander 
merely  sunk  back  upon  the  ground,  gasped,  shuddered, 
and  lay  still. 

Carl  was  stupefied.  He  looked  at  the  prostrate  man. 
Then  he  cast  his  eye  all  around  him  on  the  moonlit 
mountain  slope.  No  one  was  in  sight.  Was  this  murder 
he  had  committed?  He  knelt  down,  bending  over  the 
horribly  motionless  form.  He  gazed  on  the  ghastly-pale 
face,  and  saw  issuing  from  the  nostrils  a  dark  stream.  It 
was  blood. 

Was  it  not  all  a  dream  ?  He  still  held  the  stone  in 
his  hand.  He  looked  at  it,  and  mechanically  placed  it 
in  his  pocket.  Nothing  now  seemed  left  for  him  but 
to  escape  to  the  cave ;  and  yet  he  remained  fixed  with 
horror  to  the  spot,  regarding  what  he  had  done. 


372  CARL    KEEPS   HIS    ENGAGEMENT. 


XXXVIT. 


GAEL  KEEPS  HIS  ENGAGEMENT. 


the  two  forms  that  had  been  seen  on  the 
ledge,  the  female  was  not  Virginia,  and  the 
other  was  not  Penn.  A  word  of  explana- 
tion is  necessary. 

Filled  with  hatred  for  her  husband,  —  filled  with  shame 
and  disgust,  too,  on  hearing  how  he  had  caused  his  own 
mother  to  be  whipped  (for  the  secret  was  out,  thanks  to 
Aunt  Deb  at  the  stove-pipe  hole),  —  resolved  in  her  soul 
never  to  forgive  him,  never  even  to  see  him  again  if 
she  could  help  it,  yet  intolerably  wretched  in  her  loneli- 
ness, —  SaJina  had  that  afternoon  taken  Toby  into  her 
counsel. 

"  Toby,  what  are  we  to  do  ?  "" 

"  Dat's  what  I  do'no'  myself  ! ''  the  sore  old  fellow  con- 
fessed ;  even  his  superior  wisdom,  usually  sufficient  (in 
his  own  estimation)  for  the  whole  family,  failing  him  now. 
"  When  it  comes  to  lickin'  white  women  and  'spec'able 
servants,  ain't  nobody  safe.  I's  glad  ol'  massa  and  Miss 


CARL    KEEPS   HIS   ENGAGEMENT.  873 

Jinny's  safe  up  dar  in  de  cave ;  and  I  on'y  wish  we  war 
safe  up  dar  too." 

"  Toby,"  said  Salina,  "  we  will  go  there.  Can  you  find 
the  way  ?  " 

"  Reckon  I  kin,"  said  Tohy,  delighted  at  the  pro- 
posal. 

They  set  out  early.  They  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
woods  without  exciting  suspicion.  They  kept  well  to  the 
south,  in  order  to  approach  the  cave  on  the  same  side 
of  the  ravine  from  which  Toby  had  discovered  it,  or 
rather  Perm  near  the  entrance  of  it,  before.  He  thought 
he  would  be  more  sure  to  find  it  by  that  route.  At  the 
same  time  he  avoided  the  burned  woods,  and,  without 
knowing  it,  the  soldiers. 

But,  the  best  they  could  do,  the  daylight  was  gone 
when  they  came  to  the  ravine  ;  and  Toby  could  not  find 
the  place  where  he  had  previously  crossed.  He  passed 
beyond  it.  Then  they  crossed  at  random  in  the  easiest 
place.  Once  on  the  side  where  the  cave  was,  Toby 
decided  that  they  were  above  it ;  and,  owing  to  the  steep- 
ness of  the  banks,  it  was  necessary  to  go  around  over  the 
rocks,  at  a  short  distance  from  the  ravine,  in  order  to 
reach  the  shelf  behind  the  thickets.  It  was  in  making 
this  movement  that  they  had  been  seen  to  descend  the 
ledge  and  pass  behind  the  bushes  at  its  base. 

"  Now,"  said  Toby,  "  you  jes'  wait  while  I  makes  a 
reckonoyster  !  " 

Salina,  weary,  sat  down  in  the  shadow  of  a  juniper-tree 
M 


374  CARL   KEEPS   HIS   ENGAGEMENT. 

Toby  made  his  reconnoissance,  discovered  nothing,  and 
returned.  She,  sitting  still  there,  had  been  more  success- 
ful. She  pointed. 

"  What  dar  ?  "   whispered  Toby,  frightened. 

"  There  is  somebody.  Don't  you  see  ?  By  those 
shrub -like  things." 

"  Dey  ain't  nobody  dar  !  "  — with  a  shiver. 

"  Yes  there  is.  I  saw  a  man  jump  up.  Ke  is  bending 
over  something  now,  trying  to  lift  it.  It  must  be  Penn, 
or  some  of  his  friends.  Go  softly,  and  see." 

Toby,  imaginative,  superstitious,  did  not  like  to  move. 
But  Salina  urged  him  ;  and  something  must  be  done. 

"I  —  I's  mos'  afeard  to  !  But  dar's  somebody,  shore  !  " 

He  advanced,  with  eyes  strained  wide  and  cold  chills 
creeping  over  him.  What  was  the  man  doing  there  ? 
What  was  he  trying  to  lift  and  drag  along  the  ground  ? 
It  was  the  body  of  another  man. 

"  Who  dar  ?  "  said  Toby. 

"  Be  quiet.     Come  here  !  "  was  the  answer. 

"  What !  Carl !  Carl !  dat  you?  What  you  doin'  dar  ? 
massy  sakes  !  "  said  Toby. 

"  I've  got  a  prisoner,"  said  Carl. 

"  Dead  !     O  de  debil !  "  said  Toby. 

"  I've  knocked  him  on  the  head  a  little,  but  he  is 
not  dead,"  said  Carl.  "  Be  still,  for  there's  forty  more 
vithin  hearing  ! '' 

Toby,  with  mouth  agape,  and  hands  on  knees,  crouch- 
ing, looked  in  the  face  of  the  lifeless  man.  That  jaunty 


CAUL   KEEPS   HIS   ENGAGEMENT.  375 

mustache,  with  the  blood  from  the  nostrils  trickling  into 
it,  was  unmistakable. 

"  Dat  Sprowl !  "  ejaculated  the  old  negro,  with  horri- 
fied recoil. 

"  He  won't  hurt  you  !  Take  holt !  I  pelief  Ropes  is 
coming,  mit  his  men,  now  !  " 

"  Le'  'm  drap,  den.     Wha'  ye  totin'  on  him  fur  ?  " 

Carl  had  quite  recovered  from  his  stupefaction.  His 
wits  were  clear  again.  Why  did  he  not  leave  the  body  ? 
His  reasons  against  such  a  course  were  too  many  to  be 
enumerated  on  the  spot  to  Toby.  In  the  first  place,  he 
had  promised  to  take  the  captain  to  the  cave  ;  and  he 
felt  a  stubborn  pride  in  keeping  his  engagement.  Sec- 
ondly, the  man  might  die  if  he  abandoned  him.  More- 
over, the  troops  arriving,  and  finding  him,  would  know  at 
once  what  had  happened ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  if  both 
Carl  and  the  captain  should  be  missing,  it  would  be  sup- 
posed that  they  had  gone  to  make  observations  in  another 
quarter ;  they  would  be  waited  for,  and  thus  much  time 
would  be  gained. 

Carl  had  all  these  arguments  in  his  brain.  But  instead 
of  stopping  to  explain  anything,  he  once  more,  and  alone, 
lifted  the  head  and  shoulders  of  the  limp  man,  and  recom- 
menced bearing  him  along. 

"  Toby,  who  is  that  ?  " 

"  Dat  am  Miss  Salina." 

Carl  asked  no  explanations.  "  Vimmen  scream  some- 
times. Tell  her  she  is  not  to  scream.  You  get  her  hand- 
kersheaf.  And  do  not  say  it  is  Shprowl." 


376  CARL    KEEPS   HIS   ENGAGEMENT. 

"  Who  —  what  is  it  ?  :'  Salina  inquired. 

"  Our  Carl !  don't  ye  know  ?  "  said  Toby.  "  He's  got 
one  ob  dem  secesh  he's  knocked  on  de  head." 

"  Has  he  killed  him  ?  " 

"  Part  killed  him,  and  part  took  him  prisoner,  - —  about 
six  o'  one  and  half  a  dozen  o'  tudder.  Pie  say  you's  spec- 
fully 'quested  not  to  scream;  and  he  Avants  your  hank- 
'cher." 

"  What  does  he  want  of  it  ?  "  —  giving  it. 

"  Dat  he  best  know  hisself ;  but  if  my  'pinion  am 
axed,  I  should  say,  to  wipe  de  fellah's  nose  wiv." 

Having  delivered  this  profound  judgment,  Toby  carried 
the  handkerchief  to  Carl,  who  spread  it  over  the  wounded 
man's  face. 

"  That  prewents  her  seeing  him,  and  prewents  his  see- 
ing the  vay  to  the  cave." 

"  Who  eber  knowed  you's  sech  a  powerful  smart 
chu"  ?  "  said  old  Toby,  amazed. 

A  new  perception  of  Carl's  character  had  burst  sudden- 
ly, with  a  wonderful  light,  upon  his  dazzled  understand- 
ing. In  the  terror  of  their  first  encounter,  in  this  strange 
place,  he  had  comprehended  nothing  of  the  situation. 
He  had  not  even  remembered  that  he  last  saw  Carl  in  the 
guard-house,  with  irons  on  his  wrists.  It  was  like  a 
fragment  of  some  dream  to  find  him  here,  holding  the 
lifeless  Lysander  in  his  arms.  But  now  he  remembered  ; 
now  he  comprehended.  Carl  had  saved  him  from  torture 
by  engaging  to  bring  this  man  to  the  cave ;  whom  by 


CARL    KEEPS  HIS   ENGAGEMENT.  377 

some  miracle  of  courage  and  valor,  he  had  overcome  and 
captured,  and  brought  thus  far  over  the  lonely  rocks. 
All  was  yet  vague  to  the  old  negro's  mind ;  but  it  was 
nevertheless  strange,  great,  prodigious.  And  this  lal, 
this  Carl,  whom  Penn  had  brought,  a  sort  of  vagabond,  a 
little  hungry  beggar,  to  Mr.  Villars's  house — that  is  to 
say,  Toby's ;  whom  the  vain,  tender,  pompous,  affection- 
ate old  servant  had  had  the  immense  satisfaction  of  adopt- 
ing into  the  family,  patronizing,  scolding,  tyrannizing  over, 
and  tenderly  loving  ;  who  had  always  been  to  him  "  Dat 
chil'  !  "  "  dat  good-for-nuffin'  !  "  "  dat  mis'ble  Carl !  "  — 
the  same  now  loomed  before  his  imagination  a  IIEKO. 
The  simple  spreading  of  the  handkerchief  over  the  face 
appeared  to  him  a  master-stroke  of  cool  sagacity.  He 
himself,  with  ail  that  stupendous  wisdom  of  his,  would 
not  have  thought  of  that !  He  actually  found  himself  on 
the  point  of  saying  "  Massa  Carl !  " 

Ah,  this  foolish  old  negro  is  not  the  only  person  who, 
in  these  times  of  national  trouble,  has  been  thus  aston- 
ished! Carl  is  not  the  only  hero  who  has  suddenly 
emerged,  to  thrilled  and  wondering  eyes,  from  the  dis- 
guises of  common  life.  How  many  a  beloved  "  good-for- 
nothiag"  has  gone  from  our  streets  and  firesides,  to  reap- 
pear  far  off  in  a  vision  of  glory  !  The  school-fellows 
know  not  their  comrade  ;  the  mother  knows  not  her  own 
son.  The  stripling,  whose  outgoing  and  incoming  were  so 
familiar  to  us,  —  impulsive,  fun-loving,  a  little  vain,  a  lit- 
tle selfish,  apt  to  be  cross  when  the  supper  was  not  ready, 
32* 


378  CARL   KEEPS   HIS    ENGAGEMENT. 

apt  to  come  late  and  make  you  cross  when  the  supper 
was  ready  and  waiting,  —  who  ever  guessed  what  noble- 
ness was  in  him !  His  country  called,  and  he  rose  up 
a  patriot.  The  fatigue  of  marches,  the  hardships  of 
camp  and  bivouac,  the  hard  fare,  the  injustice  that  must 
be  submitted  to,  all  the  terrible  trials  of  the  body's 
strength  and  the  soul's  patient  endurance,  —  these  he  bore 
with  the  superb  buoyancy  of  spirit  which  denotes  the 
heu.  Who  was  it  that  caught  up  the  colors,  and 
rushed  forward  with  them  into  the  thick  of  the  battle, 
after  the  fifth  man  who  attempted  it  had  been  shot  down  ? 
Not  that  village  loafer,  who  used  to  go  about  the  streets 
dressed  so  shabbily  ?  Yes,  the  same.  He  fell,  covered 
with  wounds  and  glory.  The  rusty,  and  seemingly  useless 
instrument  we  saw  hang  so  long  idle  on  the  walls  of  soci- 
ety, none  dreamed  to  be  a  trumpet  of  sonorous  note  until 
the  Soul  came  and  blew  a  blast.  And  what  has  become 
of  that  white-gloved,  perfumed,  handsome  cousin  of  yours, 
devoted  to  his  pleasures,  weary  even  of  those,  —  to  whom 
life,  with  all  its  luxuries,  had  become  a  bore  ?  He  fell 
in  the  trenches  at  Wagner.  He  had  distinguished  him- 
self by  his  daring,  his  hardihood,  his  fiery  love  of  liberty. 
When  the  nation's  alarum  beat,  his  manhood  stood  erect ; 
he  shook  himself;  all  his  past  frivolities  wer3  no  more 
than  dust  to  the  mane  of  this  young  lion.  The  war  has 
proved  useful  if  only  in  this,  that  it  has  developed  the 
latent  heroism  in  our  young  men,  and  taught  us  what 
is  in  humanity,  in  our  fellows,  in  ourselves.  Because 


CARL   KEEPS   HIS   ENGAGEMENT.  879 

it  has  called  into  action  all  this  generosity  and  courage, 
if  for  no  other  cause,  let  us  forgive  its  cruelty,  though 
the  chair  of  the  beloved  one  be  vacant,  the  bed  unslept 
in,  and  the  hand  cold  that  penned  the  letters  in  that 
sacred  drawer,  which  cannot  even  now  be  opened  without 
grief. 

As  Toby  had  never  been  conscious  what  stuff  there 
was  in  Carl,  so  he  had  never  known  how  much  he  really 
loved,  admired,  and  relied  upon  him.  He  stood  staring 
at  him  there  in  the  moonlight  as  if  he  then  for  the  first 
time  perceived  what  a  little  prodigy  he  was. 

"  Take  holt,  why  don't  you  ?  "  said  Carl. 

And  this  time  Toby  obeyed :  he  secretly  acknowledged 
the  authority  of  a  master. 

"  Sartin,  sah  !  " 

He  had  checked  himself  when  on  the  point  of  saying 
"  Massa  Carl ;  "  but  the  respectful  "  sah  "  slipped  from  his 
tongue  before  he  was  aware  of  it. 

Among  the  bushes,  and  in  the  shadows  of  the  rocks, 
they  bore  the  body  in  swiftness  and  silence.  Salina  fol- 
lowed. 

In  the  cave  the  usual  fire  was  burning ;  by  the  light  of 
which  only  Virginia  and  her  father  were  to  be  seen.  The 
sisters  fell  into  each  other's  arms.  Salina  was  softened  : 
here,  after  all  her  sufferings,  was  refuge  at  last :  here,  in 
the  warmth  of  a  father's  and  a  sister's  affection,  was  the 
only  comfort  she  could  hope  for  now,  in  the  world  she  had 
found  so  bitter. 


380  CARL    KEEPS    HIS   EXGAGEXEXT. 

"  Who  is  with  you?  "  said  the  old  man.  "  Toby  ?  and 
Carl  ?  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  I  vants  Mr.  Hapgood,  or  Pomp,  or  Cudjo !  "  said 
Carl,  laying  down  his  burden. 

"  They  have  gone  to  bury  the  man  in  the  rawine,"  said 
Virginia. 

Carl  opened  great  eyes.  "  The  man  in  the  rawine  ? 
That's  vair  Ropes  and  the  soldiers  have  gone." 

"  What  soldiers  ?  — Who  is  this  ?  " 

"  This  is  their  waliant  captain !  I  am  wery  sorry, 
ladies,  but  I  have  given  him  a  leetle  nose-pleed.  Some 
vater,  Toby  !  Your  handkersheaf,  ma'am,  and  wery 
much  obliged." 

Salina  stooped  to  take  the  handkerchief.  A  flash  of 
the  fire  shone  upon  the  uncovered  face.  The  eyes 
opened ;  they  looked  up,  and  met  hers  looking  down. 

"  Lysander !  " 

"  Sal,  is  it  you  ?  Where  am  I,  anyhow  ?  "  And  the 
husband  tried  to  raise  himself.  "  Carl,  what's  this  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  wiolent !  "  said  Carl,  gently  laying  him 
down  again,  "  and  I  vill  tell  you.  I  vas  your  prisoner,  and 
I  vas  showing  you  the  cave.  Veil,  this  is  the  cave ;  but 
things  is  a  little  inwerted.  You  are  my  prisoner." 

"  Is  that  so?"  said  the  astonished  Lysander. 

"  Wery  much  so,"  replied  Carl. 

"  Didn't  somebody  knock  me  on  the  head  ?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  be  wastly  surprised  if  somepody  did 
knock  YOU  on  the  head." 


CARL   KEEPS   HIS   ENGAGEMENT.  381 

"  Was  it  you  ?  " 

"  I  rather  sushpect  it  vas  me." 

Lysander  rubbed  his  bruised  temple  feebly,  looking 
amazed. 

"  But  how  came  she  here  ?  " 

"  It  vas  she  and  Toby  we  saw  going  into  the  cave." 

"  What's  that  ?  "  —  to  Toby,  bringing  a  gourd. 

"  It  is  vater  ;  it  vill  improve  your  wysiognomy.  You 
can  trink  a  little.  You  feel  pretty  sound  in  your  witals, 
don't  you  ?  I  vas  careful  not  to  hurt  your  witals,"  said 
Carl,  kindly,  raising  Sprowl's  head  and  holding  the  water 
for  him  to  drink. 

Lysander,  ungrateful,  instead  of  drinking,  started  up 
with  sudden  fury,  struck  the  gourd  from  him  with  one 
hand,  and  thrust  the  other  into  the  pocket  where  his  pis- 
tol was,  at  last  accounts. 

"  Vat  is  vanting?  "   Carl  inquired,  complacently. 

Lysander,  fumbling  in  vain  for  his  weapon,  muttered, 
"  Vengeance  ! " 

"  Wery  good,"  said  Carl.  "  Ve  vill  discuss  the  ques- 
tion of  wengeance,  if  you  like."  And  drawing  the  pistol 
from  his  pocket,  he  coolly  presented  it  at  Sprowl's  head. 
"  Vat  for  you  dodge  ?  You  think,  maybe,  the  discussion 
vould  not  be  greatly  to  your  adwantage  ?  " 

Lysander  felt  for  his  sword,  found  that  gone  also,  and 
muttered  again,  "  Villain  !  " 

"  Did  somepody  say  somepody  is  a  willain  ? "  re- 
marked Carl.  "  I  should  not  be  wery  much  surprised  if 


382  CARL   KEEPS   HIS   ENGAGEMENT. 

that  vas  so.  Willains  no \v days  is  cheap.  I  have  known  a 
great  wariety  since  secesh  times  pegan.  But  as  for  your 
particular  case,  sir,  I  peg  to  give  some  adwice.  There  is 
some  ladies  present,  and  you  must  keep  quiet.  Do  you 
remember  how  I  vas  kept  quiet  ven  I  vas  your  prisoner  ? 
I  had  pracelets  on.  And  do  you  remember  I  vas  putting 
some  supper  in  my  pocket  ven  you  took  me  to  show  you 
the  cave  ?  Veil,  I  make  von  great  mishtake  ;  instead  of 
supper,  vat  I  vas  putting  in  my  pocket  vas  them  wery 
pracelets ! " 

And  Carl  produced  the  handcuffs.  At  that  moment 
Penn  and  Cudjo  arrived  ;  and  Lysander,  observing  them, 
submitted  to  his  fate  with  beautiful  resignation.  The 
irons  were  put  on,  and  Carl  mounted  guard  over  him 
with  the  pistol. 


WILDE tiS£SS.  88«i 


XXXVIII. 


LOVE   IN  THE    WILDERNESS. 


U  D  J  O  was  highly  exasperated  to  find 
strangers  in  the  cave.  He  became  quickly 
reconciled  to  the  presence  of  Virginia's  sister, 
but  not  to  that  of  Lysander.  To  pacify  him,  Carl  made 
him  a  present  of  the  sword  which  he  had  removed  from 
the  captain's  noble  person  on  arriving. 

Cudjo  received  the  weapon  with  unbounded  delight,  and 
proceeded  to  adjust  the  belt  to  his  own  Ethiopian  waist. 
It  mattered  little  with  him  that  he  got  the  scabbard  on 
the  wrong  side  of  his  body :  a  sword  was  a  sword ;  and 
he  wore  it  in  awkward  and  ridiculous  fashion,  strut- 
ting up  and  down  in  the  fire-lighted  cave,  to  the  envy  and 
disgust  of  old  Toby,  the  rage  of  Lysander,  and  the  amuse- 
ment of  the  rest. 

Penn  meanwhile  related  to  his  friends  his  evening's 
adventures.  He  had  gone  down  to  the  ravine  with  the 
negroes  to  bury  the  horse  and  his  dead  rider.  He  was 
keeping  watch  while  they  worked ;  the  man  was  interred, 


384  LOVE  IN  THE   WILDERNESS. 

and  they  were  digging  a  pit  for  the  animal,  when  they 
discovered  the  approach  of  the  soldiers,  and  retired  to  a 
hiding-place  close  by.  There  they  lay  concealed,  whilst 
Ropes  and  his  men  descended  to  the  spot,  exhumed  the 
corpse  with  Cudjo's  shovel,  made  their  comments  upon  it, 
and  put  it  back  into  the  ground.  During  this  operation 
it  had  required  all  Pomp's  authority,  and  the  restraint  of 
his  strong  hand,  to  keep  Cudjo  from  pouncing  upon  his 
old  enemy  and  former  overseer,  Silas  Ropes. 

"  There  were  three  of  us,"  said  Penn,  "  and  only  three 
of  them,  besides  Pepperill ;  and  no  doubt  a  struggle  would 
have  resulted  in  our  favor.  But  we  did  not  want  to  be 
troubled  with  prisoners ;  and  Pomp  and  I  could  not  see 
that  anything  was  to  be  gained  by  killing  them.  Besides, 
we  knew  they  had  a  strong  reserve  within  call.  So  we 
waited  patiently  until  they  finished  their  work,  and  climbed 
up  out  of  the  ravine  ;  then  we  climbed  up  after  them. 
We  thought  their  main  object  must  be  to  find  the  cave, 
and  Pomp  strongly  suspected  Pepperill  of  treachery.  We 
found  a  large  number  of  soldiers  lying  under  some  bushes, 
and  crept  near  enough  to  hear  what  they  were  saying. 
The)7  were  going  to  take  the  cave  by  surprise,  and  an 
order  had  just  come  for  them  to  move  farther  up  the 
mountain.  They  set  off  with  scarcely  any  noise,  remind- 
ing me  of  the  '  Forty  Thieves,'  as  they  filed  away  in 
the  moonlight,  and  disappeared  among  the  bushes  and 
shadows.  Pomp  is  on  their  trail  now;  he  has  his  rifle 
with  him,  and  it  may  be  heard  from  if  he  sees  them  change 
their  course  and  approach  too  near  the  cave." 


LOVE  IN  THE   WILDERNESS.  385 

Penn  had  come  in  for  his  musket.  It  was  the  same 
that  had  fallen  from  the  hands  of  the  man  Griffin  at  the 
moment  when  that  unhappy  rebel  was  in  the  act  of  char- 
ging bayonet  at  his  breast.  Assuring  Virginia  —  who 
could  not  conceal  her  alarm  at  seeing  him  take  it  from  its 
corner  —  that  he  was  merely  going  out  to  reconnoitre,  he 
left  the  cave. 

He  was  gone  several  hours.  At  length  he  and  Pomp 
returned  together.  The  moon  had  long  since  set,  but  it 
was  beautiful  starlight ;  and,  themselves  unseen,  they  had 
watched  carefully  the  movements  of  the  soldiers. 

"  You  would  have  laughed  to  have  been  in  my  place, 
Carl !  "  said  Perm,  laying  his  hand  affectionately  on  the 
shoulder  of  his  beloved  pupil.  "  They  besieged  the  ledge 
where  your  imaginary  cave  is  for  full  two  hours  after  I 
went  out,  apparently  without  daring  to  go  very  near  it." 

"I  suppose,"  replied  Carl,  "they  vas  vaiting  for  me 
and  the  captain.  It  vas  really  too  pad  now  for  us  to  make 
them  lose  so  much  waluable  time  !  But  they  vill  excuse 
Mishter  Shprowl ;  his  absence  is  unawoidable."  And 
lifting  his  brows  with  a  commiserating  expression,  he  gave 
a  comical  side-glance  from  under  them  at  the  languishing 
Lysander. 

All  laughed  at  the  lad's  humor  except  the  captain  him- 
self—  and  Salina. 

After  besieging  the  imaginary  cave  as  Penn  had  de- 
scribed, several  of  the  confederates,  he  said,  at  last  ven- 
tured with  extreme  caution  to  approach  it. 


386  LOVE  IS"  THE   WILDERNESS. 

"  And  found,"  added  Carl,  "  they  had  been  made  the 
wictims  of  von  leetle  stratagem  !  " 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Penn ;  "  for  immediately  an  unu- 
sual stir  took  place  amongst  them." 

"  In  searching  for  the  entrance,"  laughed  Pomp,  leaning 
on  his  rifle,  "  they  came  close  under  a  juniper-tree  I  had 
climbed  into,  and  I  could  hear  them  cursing  the  little 
Dutchman " 

"  I  suppose  that  vas  me,"  smiled  the  good-natured  Carl. 

"  And  the  '  pig-headed  captain'  who  had  gone  off  with 
him." 

"  The  pig-headed  captain  is  this  indiwidual "  —  indi- 
cating Sprowl.  "  But  it  is  wery  unjust  to  be  cursing  him, 
for  it  vas  not  his  fa-sit.  It  vas  my  legs  and  Toby's  that 
conweyed  him ;  and  he  had  a  handkersheaf  over  his  face 
for  a  wail." 

"  I  suspected  how  it  was,  even  before  I  met  Penn  and 
learned  what  had  happened.  I  am  sorry  to  see  this  fellow 
in  this  place,"  —  Pomp  turned  a  frowning  look  at  the 
corner  where  Lysander  lay,  —  "  but  now  that  he  is  here, 
he  must  stay." 

Carl,  upon  whom  the  only  noticeable  effect  produced 
by  his  exciting  adventure  was  a  lively  disposition  to  talk, 
quite  unusual  with  him,  entered  upon  a  full  explanation 
of  the  circumstances  which  had  led  to  Lysander's  capture. 
His  narrative  was  altogether  so  simple,  so  honest,  so  droll, 
that  even  the  bitter  Salina  had  to  smile  at  it,  while  all  the 
rest,  the  old  clergyman  included,  joined  in  a  hearty  laugh 
of  admiring  approval  at  its  conclusion. 


LOVE  7AT  THE    WILDERNESS.  387 

"  I  don't  see  but  that  you  did  the  best  that  could  be 
done,"  said  Pomp.  "  At  all  events,  the  villains  seem  to 
have  been  completely  baffled.  The  last  I  saw  of  them 
they  were  retreating  through  the  burned  woods,  as  if  afraid 
to  have  daylight  find  them  on  the  mountain." 

The  daylight  had  now  come ;  and  Penn,  who  went  out 
to  take  an  observation,  could  discover  no  trace  of  the  van- 
ished rebels.  The  eastern  sky  was  like  a  sheet  of  diapha- 
nous silver,  faintly  crimsoned  above  the  edges  of  the  hills 
with  streaks  of  the  brightening  dawn.  All  the  valley  be- 
low was  inundated  by  a  lake  of  level  mist,  whose  subtle 
wave  made  islands  of  the  hills,  and  shining  inlets  of  the 
intervales.  Above  this  sea  of  white  silence  rose  the  moun- 
tain ranges,  inexpressibly  calm  and  beautiful,  fresh  from 
their  bath  of  starlight  and  dew,  and  empurpled  with 
softest  tints  of  the  early  morning. 

Penn  heard  a  footstep,  and  felt  a  touch  on  his  arm. 
Was  it  the  beauty  of  the  earth  and  sky  that  made  him 
shiver  with  so  sudden  and  sweet  a  thrill  ?  or  was  it  the 
lovely  presence  at  his  side,  in  whom  was  incarnated,  for 
him,  all  the  beauty,  all  the  light,  all  the  joy  of  the  uni- 
verse ? 

It  was  Virginia,  who  leaned  so  gently  on  his  arm,  that 
not  the  slight  pressure  of  her  weight,  but  rather  the  im- 
palpable shock  of  bliss  her  very  nearness  brought,  made 
him  aware  of  her  approach.  Toby  followed,  supporting 
her  along  the  shelf  of  rock  —  a  dark  cloud  in  the  wake 
of  that  rosy  and  perfumed  dawn. 


388  LOVE   IN   THE    WILDERNESS. 

"  O,  how  delicious  it  is  out  here  !  "  said  the  voice,  which, 
if  we  were  to  describe  it  from  the  lover's  point  of  view, 
could  be  likened  only  to  the  songs  of  birds,  the  musical 
utterance  of  purest  flutes,  or  the  blowing  of  wild  winds 
through  those  grand  harp-strings,  the  mountain  pines  ;  for 
there  was  more  of  poetry  and  passion  compressed  in  the 
heart  of  this  quiet  young  Quaker  than  we  shall  venture 
to  give  breath  to  in  these  pages. 

"  It  is  —  delicious  ! "  he  quiveringly  answered,  in  his 
happy  confusion  blending  her  with  his  perception  of  the 
daybreak. 

She  inhaled  deep  draughts  of  the  mountain  air. 

"  How  I  love  it !  The  breath  of  trees,  and  grass,  and 
flowers  is  in  it,  —  those  dear  friends  of  mine,  that  I  pine 
for,  shut  up  here  in  prison  !  " 

"  Do  you  ?  "  said  Penn,  vaguely,  half  wishing  that  he 
was  a  flower,  a  blade  of  grass,  or  a  tree,  so  that  she  might 
pine  for  him. 

"  The  air  of  the  cave,"  she  said,  "  is  cold  ;  it  is  odor- 
less. The  cave  seems  to  me  like  the  great,  chill  hearts 
of  some  of  your  profound  philosophers !  Some  of  those 
tremendous  books  father  makes  me  read  to  him  came  out 
of  such  hearts,  I  am  sure ;  great  hollow  caverns,  full  of 
mystery  and  darkness,  and  so  cold  and  dull  they  make 
me  shudder  to  touch  them ;  —  but  don't  you,  for  the 
world,  tell  him  I  said  so,  —  for,  to  please  him,  I  let  him 
think  I  am  ever  so  much  edified  by  everything  that  he 
likes." 


LOVE   IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  389 

"  What  sort  of  books  do  you  like  ? " 

"  O,  I  like  books  with  daylight  in  them  !  I  want  them 
to  be  living,  upper-air,  joyous  books.  There  must  be 
sunshine,  and  birds,  and  brooks,  —  human  nature,  life, 
suffering,  aspiration,  and " 

"  And  love  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  there  should  be  a  little  love  in  books, 
since  there  is  sometimes  a  little,  I  believe,  in  real  life." 
But  she  touched  this  subject  with  such  airy  lightness,  — 
just  hovering  over  it  for  an  instant,  and  then  away,  like 
a  butterfly  not  to  be  caught,  —  that  Penn  felt  a  jealous 
trouble.  "  How  long,"  she  added  immediately,  "  do  you 
imagine  we  shall  have  to  stay  here  ?  " 

"  It  is  impossible  to  say,"  replied  Penn,  turning  with 
reluctance  to  the  more  practical  topic.  "  One  would 
think  that  the  government  cannot  leave  us  much  longer 
subject  to  this  atrocious  tyranny.  An  army  may  be 
already  marching  to  our  relief.  But  it  may  be  weeks,  it 
may  be  months,  and  I  am  not  sure,"  he  added  seriously, 
"  but  it  may  be  years,  before  Tennessee  is  relieved." 

"  Why,  that  is  terrible  !  Toby  says  that  poor  old  man, 
Mr.  Ellerton,  who  assisted  you  to  escape,  was  caught  and 
hung  by  some  of  the  soldiers  yesterday." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  but  it  is  true.  Although  he  had 
returned  to  his  home,  he  was  known  to  be  a  Unionist, 
and  probably  he  was  suspected  of  having  aided  us ;  in 
which  case  not  even  his  white  hairs  could  save  him." 

"  But  it  is  horrible  !  They  have  commenced  woman- 
33* 


390  LOVE   IN   THE    WILDERNESS. 

whipping.  And  Toby  says  a  negro  was  hung  six  times  a 
couple  of  days  ago,  and  afterwards  cut  to  pieces,  for  say- 
ing to  another  negro  he  met,  '  Good  news ;  Lincoln's 
army  is  coming ! '  What  is  going  to  become  of  us,  if  re- 
lief doesn't  arrive  soon  :  O,  to  look  at  the  beautiful  world 
\vs  are  driven  from  by  these  wicked,  wicked  men !  " 

"  And  are  you  so  very  weary  of  the  cave  r " 

Penn  gave  her  a  look  full  of  electric  tenderness,  which 
seemed  to  say,  "  Have  not  I  been  with  you  ?  and  am  I 
nothing  to  you  ?  " 

She  smiled,  and  her  voice  was  tremulous  as  she  an- 
swered, — 

"  I  wish  I  could  go  out  into  the  sunshine  again  !  But 
I  have  not  been  unhappy.  Indeed,  I  think  I  have  been 
very  happy." 

There  was  an  indescribable  pause ;  Virginia's  eyes 
modestly  veiled,  her  face  suffused  with  a  blissful  light, 
as  if  her  soul  saw  some  soft  and  exquisite  dream ;  while 
Perm's  bosom  swelled  with  the  long  undulations  of  hope 
and  transport.  Toby  still  lingered  in  the  entrance  of  the 
cave. 

"Toby,"  said  Penn,  such  a  radiance  flashing  from  his 
brow  as  the  negro  had  never  seen  before,  "  my  good 
Toby,"  —  and  what  ineffable  human  sympathy  vibrated  in 
his  tones !  —  "I  wish  you  would  go  in  and  tell  our  friends 
that  the  enemy  has  quite  disappeared  :  will  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  massa ! "  said  Toby,  a  ray  of  that  happiness 
penetrating  even  the  old  freedman's  breast.  For  such  is 


LOVE   IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  391 

the  beautiful  law  of  our  nature,  that  love  cannot  be  con- 
cealed ;  it  cannot  be  monopolized  by  one,  nor  yet  by 
two ;  but  when  its  divine  glow  is  kindled  in  any  soul,  it 
beams  forth  from  the  eyes,  it  thrills  in  the  tones  of  the 
voice,  it  breathes  from  all  the  invisible  magnetic  pores  of 
being,  and  sheds  sunshine  arid  warmth  on  all. 

Toby  went.  Then  an  arm  of  manly  strength,  yet  of 
all  manly  gentleness,  stole  about  the  wuist  of  the  girl, 
and  drew  her  softly,  close,  closer ;  while  something  else, 
impalpable,  ravishing,  holy,  drew  her  by  a  still  more  po- 
tent attraction ;  until,  for  the  first  time  in  her  young  and 
pure  life,  her  mouth  met  another  mouth  with  the  soul's 
virgin  kiss.  Her  lips  had  kissed  many  times  before,  but 
her  soul  never.  How  long  it  lasted,  that  sweet  pertur- 
bation, that  fervent  experience  of  a  touch,  neither,  I 
suppose,  ever  knew ;  for  at  such  times  a  moment  is  an 
eternity.  As  a  lightning  flash  in  a  dark  night  reveals, 
for  a  dazzling  instant,  a  world  concealed  before,  so  the 
elertric  interchange  of  two  hearts  charged  with  love's 
lightning  seems  to  open  the  very  doors  of  infinity ;  and  it 
is  the  glory  of  heaven  that  shines  upon  them. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken. 

Then  Penn  held  Virginia  before  him,  and  looked  deep 
into  her  eyes,  and  said,  with  a  strange  tremor  of  lip  and 
voice,  —  using  the  gentle  speech  of  the  Friends,  into  which 
old  familiar  channel  his  thoughts  flowed  naturally  in  mo- 
ments of  strong  feeling,  — 

"  Wherever  this  dear  face  smiles  upon  me,  there  is  my 


392  LOVE  IN   THE    WILDERNESS. 

sunshine.  I  must  be  very  selfish ;  for  notwithstanding 
all  the  dangers  and  discomforts  by  which  I  see  thee  and 
thy  father  surrounded,  the  hours  we  have  passed  together 
here  have  been  the  happiest  of  my  life.  Yea,  and  suf- 
fering and  privation  would  be  never  anything  to  me,  if 
I  could  always  have  thee  with  me,  Virginia ! " 

How  different,  meanwhile,  was  the  scene  within  the 
cave  !  How  chafed  the  fiery  Lysander  !  How  spitefully 
Salina  bit  her  lips  ever  at  sight  of  him !  And  these 
two  had  once  been  lovers,  and  had  seen  rainbows  span 
their  future  also  !  Is  it  love  that  unites  such,  or  is  it  only 
the  yearning  for  love  ?  For  love,  the  reality,  fuses  all 
qualities,  and  brings  into  harmony  all  clashing  chords. 

Toby  entered,  the  gleam  of  others'  happiness  still  in 
his  countenance. 

"  De  enemy  hab  dis'peared ;  all  gone  down  in  de  frog." 

"The  frog,  Toby?"  said  Mr.  Villars. 

"  Yes,  sar  ;  right  smart  frog  down  'ar  in  de  volley ! " 

"  He  means,  a  fog  in  the  walley,"  said  Carl. 


A    COUNCIL    OF    WAR. 


XXXIX. 


A    COUNCIL    OF   WAR. 


WING  to  the  disturbances  of  the  night 
the  old  clergyman  had  slept  little.  He 
now  lay  down  on  the  conch,  and  soon  sank 
into  a  profound  slumber.  When  he  awoke  he  heard 
the  hum  of  voices.  The  cave  was  filled  with  armed 
men. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Stackridge  and  his  friends,"  said  Vir- 
ginia. "  They  have  come  to  hold  a  council  of  wrar  ; 
and  they  look  upon  you  as  their  grand  sachem." 

"  I  have  brought  them  here,"  said  Pomp,  "  at  their 
request  —  all  except  Deslow." 

"  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  Deslow,  I  believe,  has  deserted  !  "  said  Stack- 
ridge. 

"  Ah  !    What  makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Well,  I've  watched  him  right  close,  and  I've  seen 
a  good  deal  of  what's  been  working  in  his  mind.  He's 
one  o'  them  fools  that  believe  Slavery  is  God ;  and  he 


394  A  COUNCIL  OF  WAI-:. 

can't  get  over  it.  Pomp,  here,  saved  our  lives  in 
the  fire  the  other  night ;  and  Desiow  couldn't  stand 
it.  To  owe  his  life  to  a  runaway  slave  —  that  was 
too  dreadful ! "  said  Stackridge  with  savage  sarcasm. 
"  He's  a  man  that  would  rather  be  roasted  alive, 
and  see  his  country  ruined,  I  suppose,  than  do  any- 
thing that  might  damage  in  the  least  degree  his  divine 
institution  !  There's  the  difference  'twixt  him  and  me. 
Sence  slavery  has  made  war  agin'  the  Union,  and  turned 
as  out  of  our  homes,  I  say,  by  the  Lord  !  let  it  go 
down  to  hell,  as  it  desarves  !  " 

"  You  use  strong  language,  neighbor  !  " 

"I  do ;  and  it's  time,  I  reckon,  when  strong  lan- 
guage, and  strong  actions  too,  are  called  fur.  You  hate 
a  man  that  you've  befriended,  and  that's  turned  traitor 
agin'  ye,  worse'n  you  hate  an  open  inemy,  don't  ye  ? 
Wai,  I've  befriended  slavery,  and  it's  turned  traitor 
agin'  me,  and  all  I  hold  most  sacred  in  this  world,  and 
I'm  jest  getting  my  eyes  open  to  it ;  and  so  I  say,  let 
it  go  down  !  I've  no  patience  with  such  men  as  Des- 
low,  and  I'm  glad,  on  the  whole,  he's  gone.  He  don't 
belong  with  us  anyhow.  I  say,  any  man  that  loves 
any  kind  of  property,  or  any  party,  or  institution,  bet- 
ter than  he  loves  the  old  Union "  —  Stackridge  said 
this  with  tears  of  passion  in  his  eyes,  —  "such  a  man 
belongs  with  the  rebels,  and  the  sooner  we  sift  'em 
out  of  our  ranks  the  better." 

vt  When  did  he  go  ?  " 


A    COUNCIL    OF    WAS.  395 

"  Some  of  us  were  out  foraging  again  last  night ; 
Withers  and  Deslow  with  the  rest.  Tell  what  he  said  to 
you,  Withers." 

The  group  of  fugitives  had  gathered  about  the  bed 
on  which  the  old  clergyman  sat.  Withers  was  scraping 
his  long  horny  nails  with  a  huge  jackknife. 

"  He  says  to  me,  says  he,  '  Withers,  we've  got  inter  a 
bad  scrape.'  '  How  so  ? '  says  I ;  for  I  thought  we  war 
gittin'  out  of  a  right  bad  scrape  when  we  got  out  of 
that  temp'rary  jail.  '  The  wust  hain't  happened  yet,' 
says  he.  '  That's  bad,'  says  I,  '  fur  it's  allus  good  fur 
a  feller  to  know  the  wust  has  happened.'  And  so  I  told 
him  a  little  story.  Says  I,  '  When  I  was  a  little  boy 
'bout  that  high,  I  was  helping  my  daddy  one  day 
secure  some  hay.  Wai,  it  looked  like  rain,  and  we 
put  in  right  smart  till  the  fust  sprinkles  begun  to  fall, 
—  great  drops,  big  as  ox-eyes,  —  and  they  skeert  me, 
for  I  war  awful  'fraid  of  gittin'  wet.  So  what  did  I 
do  but  run  and  git  vinder  some  boards.  My  daddy  war 
so  busy  he  didn't  see  me,  till  bime-by  he  come  that 
way,  rolling  up  the  hay-cocks  to  kill,  and  looked,  and 
thar  I  war  under  the  pile  o'  boards,  curled  up  like  a 
hedgehog  to  keep  dry.  "  Josh,"  says  he,  "  what  ye 
doin'  thar  ?  Why  ain't  ye  to  work  ? "  "  'Fraid  c' 
gittin'  wet !  "  says  I.  Ton  that  he  didn't  say  a  word, 
but  jest  come  and  took  me  by  the  collar,  and  led  me 
to  a  little  run  close  by,  and  jest  casoused  me  in  the 
water,  head  over  heels,  and  then  jest  pulled  me  out 


396  A    COUNCIL    OF   WAR. 

agin.  "  Now,"  says  he,  "  ye  can  go  to  work,  and  you 
won't  be  the  leastest  mite  afeard  o'  gittin'  wet."  Wai, 
twas  about  so.  I  didn't  mind  the  rain,  arter  that.  Wai, 
Deslow,'  says  I,  '  that  larnt  me  a  lesson  ;  and  ever  sence 
I've  always  thought  'twas  a  good  thing  fur  us,  when 
trouble  comes,  to  have  the  wust  happen,  and  know  it's 
the  wust,  fur  then  we'se  prepared  fur't,  and  ain't  no 
longer  to  be  skeert  by  a  little  shower.'  That's  what  I 
said  to  Deslow."  And  Withers  continued  scraping  his 
nails. 

"  Very  good  philosophy,  indeed  !  "  said  Mr.  Villars. 
•'  And  what  did  he  reply  ?  '' 

"  He  said,  when  the  wust  happened  to  us,  we'd  find 
we  had  no  home,  no  property,  and  no  country  left ;  and 
fur  his  part  he  had  been  thinking  we'd  better  go  and 
give  ourselves  up,  make  peace  with  the  authorities,  and 
take  the  oath  of  allegiance.  '  Lincoln  won't  send  no 
army  to  relieve  us  yet  a-while,'  says  he,  '  and  even  if  he 
does,  you  know,  victory  for  the  Federals  means  the  death 
of  our  institootions  !  So  I  see  where  the  shoe  pinched 
with  hinj  ;  and  I  said,  '  If  that  continners  to  be  your 
ways  of  thinkin',  I  hain't  the  least  objections  to 
partin'  comp'ny  with  ye,  as  the  house  dog  said  to  the 
skunk ;  only,'  says  I,  '  don't  ye  go  to  betrayin'  us,  if  you 
conclude  to  go.'  Soon  arter  that  we  separated,  and  that's 
the  last  any  on  us  have  seen  of  him." 

"  They've  begun  to  whip  women,  too,"  said  Stackridge, 
"  But,  by  right  good  luck,  when  this  scamp  here  —  * 


A   COUNCIL   OS    WAi*.  397 

glowering  upon  Lysander  — "  sent  to  have  my  wife 
whipped,  he  got  his  own  mother  whipped  in  her  place ! 
He's  a  connection  o'  your  family,  I  know,  Mr.  Villars ; 
but  I  never  spile  a  story  for  relation's  sake." 

"  Nor  need  you,  friend  Stackridge.  Sorry  I  am  for 
that  deluded  young  man ;  but  he  reaps  what  he  has 
sown,  and  he  has  only  himself  to  blame." 

"  'Twas  a  regular  secesh  operation,  that  of  having  his 
own  mother  strung  up,"  said  Captain  Grudd.  "  They 
are  working  against  their  own  interests  and  families 
without  knowing  it.  When  they  think  they  are  destroy- 
ing the  Union,  they  are  destroying  their  own  honor  and 
influence  ;  for  so  it  'ill  be  sure  to  turn  out." 

"  It  was  Liberty  they  intended  to  have  beaten,"  said 
Penn  ;  "  but  they  will  find  that  it  is  the  back  of  their 
own  mother,  Slavery,  that  receives  the  rods." 

"  Just  what  I  meant  to  say ;  but  it  took  the  professor 
to  put  it  into  the  right  shape.  By  the  way,  neighbors, 
we  owe  the  professor  an  apology.  Some  of  us  found 
fault  with  his  views  of  slavery  and  secession  ;  but  we've 
all  come  around  to  'em  pretty  generally,  I  believe,  by  this 
time.  Here's  my  hand,  professor,  and  let  me  say  I  think 
you  was  right  enough  in  all  but  one  thing  —  your  plaguy 
non-resistance." 

"  He  has  thought  better  of  that,"  said  Mr.  Villars, 
pleasantly. 

"  Yes,   zhentlemen,"    said   Carl,   anxious   to  exonerate 
his  friend,  "  he  has  been  conwerted." 
34 


398  A    COUNCIL    OF    WAR. 

"  We  have  found  that  out,  to  his  credit,"  said  Stack- 
ridge. 

And,  one  after  another,  all  took  Penn  cordially  by  the 
hand. 

"  We  are  all  brothers  in  one  cause,  OUR  COUNTKY," 
said  Penn.  Nor  did  he  stop  when  the  hand  of  the  last 
patriot  was  shaken ;  he  took  the  hand  of  Pomp  also. 
"  We  are  all  men  in  the  sight  of  God  ! ''  His  heart  was 
full ;  there  was  a  thrill  of  fervent  emotion  in  his  voice. 
His  calm  young  face,  his  firm  and  finely-cut  features, 
always  noticeable  for  a  certain  massiveness  and  strength, 
were  singularly  illumined.  He  went  on,  the  light  of  the 
cave-fire  throwing  its  ruddy  flash  on  the  group.  "  We 
are  all  His  children.  He  has  brought  us  together  here  for 
a  purpose.  The  work  to  be  done  is  for  all  men,  for 
humanity  :  it  is  God's  work.  To  that  we  should  be  will- 
ing to  give  everything  —  even  our  lives  ;  even  our  selfish 
prejudices,  dearer  to  some  than  their  lives.  I  believe  that 
upon  the  success  of  our  cause  depends,  not  the  prosperity 
of  any  class  of  men,  or  of  any  race  of  men,  only,  but 
of  all  men,  and  all  races.  For  America  marches  in  the 
van  of  human  progress,  and  if  she  falters,  if  she  ignobly 
turns  back,  woe  is  to  the  world  !  Perhaps  you  do  not  see 
this  yet :  but  never  mind.  One  thing  we  all  see  —  a 
p:\th  straight  before  us.  our  duty  to  our  country.  We 
must  put  every  other  consideration  aside,  forget  all  minor 
differences,  and  unite  in  this  the  defence  of  the  nation's 
life." 


A    COUNCIL    OF    WAR.  399 

An  involuntary  burst  of  applause  testified  how  ardently 
the  hearts  of  the  patriots  responded  to  these  words. 
Some  wrung  Penn  s  hand  again.  Pomp  meanwhile,  erect, 
and  proud  as  a  prince,  with  his  arms  folded  upon  his  mas- 
sive and  swelling  chest,  smiled  with  deep  and  quiet  satis- 
faction at  the  scene.  There  was  another  who  smiled,  too, 
her  face  suffused  with  love  and  pride  ineffable,  as  her  eyes 
watched  the  young  Quaker,  and  her  soul  drank  in  his 
words. 

"  That's  the  sentiment !  "  said  Stackridge.  "  And 
now,  what  is  to  be  done  ?  We  have  been  disappointed 
in  one  thing.  Our  friends  don't  join  us.  One  reason  is, 
no  doubt,  they  hain't  got  arms.  But  the  main  reason  is, 
they  look  upon  our  cause  as  desperate.  Desperate  or 
not,  it  can't  be  helped,  as  I  see.  With  or  without  help, 
we  must  fight  it  through,  or  go  back,  like  that  putty-head 
Deslow,  and  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  bogus  gov- 
ernment. Mr.  Villars,  you're  wise,  and  we  want  your 
opinion." 

"  That,  I  fear,  will  be  worth  little  to  you  !  "  answered 
the  old  man,  bowing  his  head  with  true  humility.  "  It 
seems  to  me  that  you  are  not  to  rely  upon  any  open  as- 
sistance from  your  friends.  And  sorry  I  am  to  add,  I 
think  you  should  not  rely,  either,  upon  any  immediate 
aid  from  the  government.  The  government  has  its  hands 
full.  The  time  is  coming  when  you  who  have  eyes  will 
see  the  old  flag  once  more  floating  on  the  breezes  of 
East  Tennessee.  But  it  may  be  long  first.  And 


400  A    COUNCIL    OF    WAR. 

in  the  mean  time  it  is  your  duty  to  look  out  for  your- 
selves." 

"  That  is  it,"  said  Stackridge.     "  But  how  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  your  retreat  cannot  remain  long 
concealed.  Therefore,  this  is  what  I  advise.  Make  your 
preparations  to  disperse  at  any  moment.  You  may 
be  compelled  to  hide  for  months  in  the  mountains  and 
woods,  hunted  continually,  and  never  permitted  to  sleep 
in  safety  twice  in  the  same  place.  That  will  be  the  fate 
of  hundreds.  There  is  but  one  thing  better  for  you  to 
do.  It  is  this.  Force  your  way  over  the  mountains  into 
Kentucky,  join  the  national  army,  and  hasten  its  advance." 

"  And  you  ?  "    said  Captain  Grudd. 

The   old  man  smiled  with  beautiful   serenity. 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  have  my  choice,  after  all.  You  re- 
member what  that  was  ?  To  remain  in  the  hands  of  our 
enemies.  I  ought  never  to  have  attempted  to  escape. 
I  cannot  help  myself;  lam  only  a  burden  to  you.  My 
daughters  cannot  continue  to  be  with  me  here  in  this  cave  ; 
and,  if  I  am  to  be  separated  from  them,  I  may  as  well 
be  in  a  confederate  prison  as  elsewhere.  If  the  traitors 
seek  my  life,  they  are  welcome  to  it." 

"  O,  father !  what  do  you  say !  "  exclaimed  Virginia, 
in  terror  at  his  words. 

"  I  advise  what  I  feel  to  be  best.  I  will  give  myself 
up  to  the  military  authorities.  You,  and  Salina,  if  she 
chooses,  will,  I  am  certain,  be  permitted  to  go  to  yom 
friend*  in  Ohio.  But  before  I  take  this  step,  let  all  hero 


A    COUNCIL    OF    WAR.  401 

who  have  strong  arms  to  lend  their  country  be  already  on 
their  way  over  the  mountains.  Penn  and  Carl  must  go 
with  them.  Nor  do  I  forget  Pomp  and  Cudjo.  They 
Bhill  go  too,  and  you  will  protect  them." 

Penn  turned  suddenly  pale.  It  was  the  soundness  of 
the  good  old  man's  counsel  that  terrified  him.  Separa- 
tion from  Virginia  !  She  to  be  left  at  the  mercy  of  the 
confederates !  This  was  the  one  thing  in  the  world  he 
had  personally  to  dread. 

"  It  may  be  good  advice,"  he  said.  "  It  is  certainly  a 
noble  self-sacrifice,  Mr.  Villars  proposes.  But  I  do  not 
believe  there  is  one  here  who  will  consent  to  it.  I  say, 
let  us  keep  together.  If  necessary,  we  can  die  together. 
We  cannot  separate,  if  by  so  doing  we  must  leave  him 
behind." 

He  spoke  with  intense  feeling,  yet  his  words  were  but 
feebly  echoed  by  the  patriots.  The  truth  was,  th?y  were 
already  convinced  that  they  ought  to  be  making  their  way 
out  of  the  state,  and  had  said  so  among  themselves ;  but, 
being  unwilling  to  abandon  the  old  minister,  and  knowing 
well  that  he  could  never  think  of  undertaking  the  terrible 
journey  they  saw  before  them,  hither  they  had  come  to 
hear  what  he  had  to  suggest. 

"•  What  do  you  think,  Pomp  ? ''  Penn  asked,  in 
despair. 

"  I  think  that  what  Mr.  Villars  advises  these  men 
to  do  is  the  best  thing." 

Penn  was  stupefied.  He  saw  that  he  stood  alone, 
34* 


402  A    COUNCIL    OF    WAR 

opposed  to  the  general  opinion.  And  something  within 
himself  said  that  he  was  selfish,  that  he  was  wrong.  He 
did  not  venture  to  glance  at  Virginia,  but  bent  his  eyes 
downward  with  a  stunned  expression  at  the  floor  of  the 
cave. 

"  But  as  for  himself,  and  us,  I  am  not  so  sure. 
There  are  recesses  in  this  cave  that  cannot  easily  be 
discovered.  He  shall  remain,  and  we  will  stay  and 
take  care  of  him,  if  he  will." 

These  calm  words  of  the  negro  sounded  like  a  re- 
prieve to  Penn's  soul.  He  caught  eagerly  at  the  sug- 
gestion. 

"  Yes,  if  there  must  be  a  separation,  Pomp  is  right. 
If  many  go,  it  will  be  believed  that  all  are  gone,  and 
the  rest  ".an  remain  in  safety." 

"  You  are  all  too  generous  towards  me,"  said  the  old 
minister-  "  But  I  have  nothing  more  to  say.  1  am  very 
patient.  I  am  willing  to  accept  whatever  God  sends, 
and  to  wait  his  own  blessed  time  for  it.  When  you, 
Penn,  were  sick  in  my  house,  and  the  ruffians  were  com- 
ing to  kill  you,  and  I  could  not  determine  what  to  do,  the 
question  was  decided  for  me :  Providence  decided  it  by 
taking  you,  by  what  seemed  a  miracle,  beyond  the  reach 
of  all  of  us.  So  I  believe  this  question,  which  troubles 
us  now,  will  be  decided  for  us  soon.  Something  is  to 
happen  that  will  show  us  plainly  what  must  be  done." 

So  it  was :  something  was  indeed  to  happen,  soonei 
even  than  he  supposed. 


THE    WONDEBS    OF  THE    CAVE.  408 


XL. 


THE    WONDERS    OF   TEE   CAVE. 


HE  other  inmates  of  the  cave  had  break- 
fasted whilst  the  old  clergyman  was  asleep. 
Toby  was  now  occupied  in  preparing  his  dish 
of  coffee,  and  Mr.  Villars  invited  the  patriots  to  remain 
and  take  a  cup  with  him. 

Penn  noticed  Cudjo's  discontent  at  seeing  Toby  usurp 
his  function.  He  remembered  also  a  rare  pleasure 
he  had  been  promising  himself  whenever  he  should  find 
Cudjo  at  leisure  and  circumstances  favorable  for  his  pur- 
pose. 

"  Now  is  our  time,"  he  whispered  Virginia.  "  Will 
Salina  come  too  ?  " 

"  What  to  do  ?  "  Salina  asked. 

"  To  explore  the  cave,"  said  Penn,  courteously,  y^t 
trembling  lest  the  invitation  should  be  accepted. 

She  excused  herself:  she  was  feeling  extremely  fa- 
tigued ;  much  to  Penn's  relief —  that  is  to  say,  regret,  as 
tie  hypocritically  gave  her  to  understand. 


404  THE    WONDERS    OF    THE    CAVE. 

Sbe  smiled :  though  she  had  declined,  Virginia  was 
going,  and  she  thought  he  looked  consoled. 

"  What  does  anybody  care  for  me  ?  "  she  said  bitterly 
to  herself. 

It  was  to  save  her  the  pain  of  a  slight  that  Penn, 
always  too  honest  to  resort  to  dissimulation  from  selfish 
motives,  had  assumed  towards  her  a  regard  he  did  not 
feel.  But  the  little  artifice  failed.  She  saw  she  was  not 
wanted,  and  was  jealous  —  angry  with  him,  with  Vir- 
ginia, with  herself.  For  thus  it  is  with  the  discontented 
and  envious.  They  cannot  endure  to  see  others  happy 
without  them.  They  gladly  make  the  most  of  a  slight, 
pressing  it  like  a  thistle  to  the  breast,  and  embracing  it 
all  the  more  fiercely  as  it  pierces  and  wounds.  But  he 
who  has  humility  and  love  in  his  heart  says  consolingly  at 
such  times,  "  If  they  can  be  happy  without  me,  why, 
Heaven  be  thanked  !  If  I  am  neglected,  then  I  must 
draw  upon  the  infinite  resources  within  myself.  And  if  I 
am  unloved,  whose  fault  is  it  but  my  own  ?  I  will  culti- 
vate that  sweetness  of  soul,  the  grace,  and  goodness,  and 
affection,  which  shall  compel  love  !  " 

Something  like  this  Carl  found  occasion  to  say  to  him- 
self ;  for  if  you  think  he  saw  the  master  he  loved,  and  her 
who  was  dear  to  him  as  ever  sister  was  to  younger 
brother,  depart  with  Cudjo  and  the  torches,  without  long- 
ing to  go  with  them  and  share  their  pleasure,  you  know 
not  the  heart  of  the  boy.  He  was  almost  choking  with 
tears  as  he  saw  the  torches  go  out  of  sight.  But  just  as 


TEE    WONDERS    OF    THE    CAVE.  405 

he  had  arrived  at  this  philosophical  conclusion,  O  joy ! 
what  did  he  see  ?  Penn  returning  !  Yes,  and  hastening 
straight  to  him  !  "  Carl,  why  don't  you  come  too  ?  " 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  sincerity  of  Penn's  frank, 
animated  face.  Again  the  tears  came  into  Carl's  eyes  ; 
but  this  time  they  were  tears  of  gratitude. 

"  Vould   you  really  be  pleased  to  have  me  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  Carl !  Virginia  and  I  both  spoke  of  it, 
and  wondered  why  we  had  not  thought  to  ask  you 
before." 

"  Then  I  vill  get  my  wery  goot  friend  the  captain  to 
excuse  me.  I  sushpect  he  vill  be  wexed  to  part  from  me  ; 
but  I  shall  take  care  that  the  ties  that  bind  us  shall  not 
be  proken." 

In  pursuance  of  this  friendly  design,  Carl  produced  a 
good  strong  cord  which  he  had  found  in  the  cave.  This 
he  attached  to  the  handcuffs  by  a  knot  in  the  middle ; 
then,  carrying  the  two  ends  in  opposite  directions 
around  one  of  the  giant's  stools,  he  fastened  them  se- 
curely on  the  side  farthest  from  the  prisoner.  This 
done,  he  gave  the  pistol  to  Toby,  and  invested  him 
with  the  important  and  highly  gratifying  office  of  guard- 
ing "  dat  Shprowl." 

"  If  you  see  him  too  much  unhappy  for  my  absence, 
and  trying  for  some  diwersion  by  making  himself  free," 
said  Carl,  instructing  him  in  the  use  of  the  weapon,  "  you 
shall  shust  cock  it  so, — present  it  at  his  head  or  stomach, 
vichever  is  conwenient  —  so,  —  then  pull  the  trigger  as 


406  THE     WONDERS    OF    THE   CAVE. 

you  please,  till  he  is  vunce  more  quiet.  That  is  all.  Nott 
I  shall  say  goot  pie  to  him  till  I  come  pack." 

"  Why  don't  you  kill  and  eat  him  ?  "  asked  Withers, 
watching  the  boy's  operations  with  humorous  enjoyment. 

"  Him  ?  "  said  Carl,  dryly.  "  Thank  ye,  sir  ;  I  am  not 
fond  of  weal." 

As  Pomp  and  the  patriots  remained  in  the  cave,  it  was 
not  anticipated  that  Lysander  would  give  any  trouble. 

With  Carl  at  his  side,  Penn  bore  the  torch  above  his 
head,  and  plunged  into  the  darkness,  which  seemed  to 
retreat  before  them  only  to  reappear  behind,  surrounding 
and  pursuing  their  little  circle  of  light  as  it  advanced. 

A  gallery,  tortuous,  lofty,  sculptured  by  the  gnomes  into 
grotesque  and  astonishing  forms,  led  from  the  inhabited 
vestibule  to  the  wonders  beyond.  They  had  gone  but  a 
few  rods  when  they  saw  a  faint  glimmer  before  them, 
which  increased  to  a  mild  yellowish  radiance  nickering  on 
the  walls.  It  was  the  light  of  Cudjo's  torch. 

They  found  Cudjo  and  Virginia  waiting  for  them  at  the 
entrance  of  a  long  and  spacious  hall,  whose  floor  was 
heaped  with  fragments  of  rock,  some  of  huge  size,  which 
had  evidently  fallen  from  the  roof. 

"  De  cave  whar  us  lives,  des'  like  dis  yer  when  me  find 
um  in  de  fust  place,"  the  negro  was  saying  to  Virginia- 
"  Right  smart  stuns  dar." 

"  What  did  you  do  with  them  ?  " 

"  Tuk  all  me  could  tote  to  make  your  little  dressum-room 
wiv.  Lef  de  big  'uns  fur  cheers  when  me  hab  comp'ny, 


THE  WONDERS  OF  THE  CAVE.       407 

hiah  yah  !  When  Pomp  come,  him  help  me  place  'em 
around  scrumptious  like.  Pomp  bery  strong — lif  like 
you  neber  see  !  " 

Climbing  over  the  stones,  they  reached,  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  hall,  an  abrupt  termination  of  the  floor.  A 
black  abyss  yawned  beyond.  In  its  invisible  depths  the 
moan  of  waters  could  be  heard.  Virginia,  who  had  been 
thrilled  with  wonder  and  fear,  standing  in  the  hall  of  the 
stones,  and  thinking  of  those  crushing  masses  showered 
from  the  roof,  now  found  it  impossible  not  to  yield  to  the 
terrors  of  her  excited  imagination. 

"  I  cannot  go  any  farther  !  "  she  said,  recoiling  from  the 
gulf,  and  drawing  Penn  back  from  it. 

"  Come  right  'long  !  "  cried  Cudjo  ;  "  no  trouble, 
missis  !  " 

"  See,  he  has  piled  stones  in  here  and  made  soms  very 
good  and  safe  stairs.  Take  my  torch,  Carl,  and  follow  ; 
Cudjo  will  go  before  with  his.  Now,  one  step  at  a  time. 
I  will  not  let  thee  fall." 

Thus  assured,  she  ventured  to  make  the  descent.  A 
strong  arm  was  about  her  waist ;  a  strong  and  supporting 
spirit  was  at  her  side  ;  and  from  that  moment  she  felt  no 
fear. 

The  limestone,  out  of  which  the  cave  was  formed,  lay 
in  nearly  horizontal  strata  ;  and,  at  the  bottom  of  Cudjo's 
stairs,  they  came  upon  another  level  floor.  It  was  smooth 
and  free  from  rubbish.  A  gray  vault  glimmered  above 
their  heads  in  the  torchlight.  The  walls  showed  strange 


408  THE    WONDERS    OF    THE    CAVE. 

and  grotesque  forms  in  bas-relief,  similar  to  those  of  the 
first  gallery  :  here  a  couchant  lion,  so  distinctly  outlined 
that  it  seemed  as  if  it  must  have  been  chiselled  by  human 
art ;  an  Indian  sitting  in  a  posture  of  woe,  with  his  face 
buried  in  h  8  hands  ;  an  Arctic  hunter  wrestling  with  a 
polar  bear :  'he  head  of  a  turbaned  Turk ;  and,  most 
wonderful  c.  all,  the  semblance  of  a  vine  (Penn  named  it 
"  Jonah's  gourd  "),  which  spread  its  massive  branches  on 
the  wall,  and,  climbing  under  the  arched  roof,  hung  its 
heavy  fruit  above  their  heads. 

Close  by  "  Jonah's  gourd  "  a  little  stream  gushed  from 
the  side  of  the  rock,  and  fell  into  a  fathomless  well.  The 
torches  were  held  over  it,  and  the  visitors  looked  down. 
Solid  darkness  was  below.  Carl  took  from  his  pocket  a 
stone. 

"  It  is  the  same,"  he  said,  "  that  Mishter  Sprowl 
pumped  his  head  against.  I  thought  I  should  find  some 
use  for  it ;  and  now  let's  see." 

He  dropped  it  into  the  well.  It  sunk  without  a  sound, 
the  noise  of  its  distant  fall  being  lost  in  the  solemn  and 
profound  murmur  of  the  descending  water. 

"  What  make  de  cave,  anyhow  ?  "  asked  Cudjo. 

"  The  wery  question  I  vas  going  to  ask,''  said  Carl. 

"  It  will  take  but  a  few  words  to  tell  you  all  I  know 
about  it,"  said  Penn.  "  Water  containing  carbonic  acid 
gas  has  the  quality  of  dissolving  such  rock  as  this  part 
of  the  mountain  is  made  of.  It  is  limestone  ;  and  the 
water,  working  its  way  through  it,  dissolves  it  as  it  would 
sugar,  only  very  slowly.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 


THE    WONDERS    OF   THE    CAVE.  409 

"  O,  yes,  massa  !  de  carbunkum  asses  tote  it  away  !  " 

Penn  smiled,  and  continued  his  explanation,  addressing 
himself  to  Carl. 

"  So,  little  by  little,  the  interior  of  the  rock  is  worn,  until 
these  great  cavities  are  formed." 

"  But  what  comes  o'  de  rock  ?  "  cried  Cudjo  ;  "  dat's 
de  question  ! " 

"  What  becomes  of  the  sugar  that  dissolves  in  your 
coffee  ?  '' 

"  Soaks  up,  I  reckon ;  so  ye  can't  see  it  widout  it 
settles." 

"  Just  so  with  the  limestone,  Cudjo.  It  soaks  up,  as 
you  say.  And  see  !  —  I  will  show  you  where  a  little  of  it 
has  settled.  Notice  this  long  white  spear  hanging  from 
the  roof." 

"  Dat  ?  Dat  ar  a  stun  icicle.  Me  broke  de  pint  off 
oncet,  but  'pears  like  it  growed  agin.  Times  de  water 
draps  from  it  right  smart." 

"  A  good  idea  —  a  stone  icicle  !  It  grew  as  an  icicle 
grows  downward  from  the  eaves.  It  was  formed  by  the 
particles  of  lime  in  the  water,  which  have  collected  there 
and  hardened  into  what  is  called  stalactite.  These  curious 
smooth  white  folds  of  stone  under  it,  which  look  so  much 
like  a  cushion,  were  formed  by  the  water  as  it  dropped. 
This  is  called  stalagmite" 

"  Heap  o'  dem  'ar  sticktights  furder  'long  hyar,"  ob- 
served Cudjo,  anxious  to  be  showing  the  wonders. 

They  came  into  a  vast  chamber,  from  the  floor  of  which 
35 


410  THE    WOSTDERS    OF    THE    CA  VE. 

rose  against  the  darkness  columns  resembling  a  grove  of 
petrified  forest  trees.  The  flaming  torches,  raised  aloft  in 
the  midst  of  them,  revealed,  supported  by  them,  a  wonder- 
ful  gothic  roof,  with  cornice,  and  frieze,  and  groined 
arches,  like  the  interior  of  a  cathedral.  A  very  distinct 
fresco  could  also  be  seen,  formed  by  mineral  incrustations, 
on  the  ceiling  and  walls.  On  a  cloudy  background  could 
be  traced  forms  of  men  and  beasts,  of  forests  and  flowers, 
armies,  castles,  and  ships,  not  sculptured  like  the  figures 
before  described,  but  designed  by  the  subtile  pencil  of 
some  sprite,  who,  Virginia  suggested,  must  have  been  the 
subterranean  brother  of  the  Frost. 

"  How  wonderful !  "  she  said.  "  And  is  it  not  strange 
how  Nature  copies  herself,  reproducing  silently  here  in 
the  dark  the  very  same  forms  we  find  in  the  world  above ! 
Here  is  a  rose,  perfect !  " 

"  With  petals  of  pure  white  gypsum,"  said  Penn. 

Whilst  they  were  talking,  Cudjo  passed  on.  They  foJ  • 
lowed  a  little  distance,  then  halted.  The  light  of  his  torca 
had  gone  out  in  the  blackness,  and  the  sound  of  his  foot- 
steps had  died  away.  Carl  remained  with  the  other  torch  ; 
and  there  they  stood  together,  without  speaking,  in  the 
midst  of  immense  darkness  ingulfing  their  little  isle  of 
light,  and  silence  the  most  intense. 

Suddenly  they  heard  a  voice  far  off,  singing ;  then  two, 
then  three  voices ;  then  a  chorus  filling  the  heart  of  the 
mountain  with  a  strange  spiritual  melody.  Virginia  was 
enraptured,  and  Carl  amazed. 


THE  WONDERS  OF  THE  CAVE.        411 

Penn,  who  had  known  what  was  coming,  looked  upon 
them  with  pride  and  delight.  At  length  the  music,  grow- 
ing faint  and  fainter,  melted  and  was  lost  in  the  mysteri- 
ous vaults  through  which  it  had  seemed  to  wander  and 
soar  away. 

It  was  a  minute  after  all  was  still  before  either  spoke. 

"  Certainly/'  Virginia  exclaimed,  "  if  I  had  not  heard 
of  a  similar  effect  produced  in  the  Mammoth  Cave,  I  should 
never  have  believed  that  marvellous  chorus  was  sung  by  a 
single  voice !  " 

"  A  single  woice  !  "  repeated  Carl,  incredulous.  "  There 
vas  more  as  a  dozen  woices  !  " 

"  Right,  Carl  !  "  laughed  Penn.  "  The  first  was  Cud- 
jo's  ;  and  all  the  rest  were  those  of  the  nymph  Echo 
and  her  companions." 

They  continued  their  course  through  the  halls  of  the 
echoes,  and  soon  came  to  an  arched  passage,  at  the 
entrance  of  which  Penn  paused  and  placed  the  torch  in  a 
niche.  A  projection  of  the  rock  prevented  the  light  from 
shining  before  them,  yet  their  way  was  softly  illumined  from 
beyond,  as  by  a  dim  phosphorescence.  They  advanced, 
and  in  a  moment  their  eyes,  grown  accustomed  to  the 
obscurity,  came  upon  a  scene  of  surprising  and  magical 
beauty. 

"  The  Grotto  of  Undine,"   said  Penn. 

It  was,  to  all  appearances,  a  nearly  spherical  concavity, 
*ome  thirty  yards  in  length,  and  perhaps  twenty  in  per- 
pendicular diameter.  Carl's  torch  was  concealed  in  the 


412  THE    WONDERS    OF    THE    CAVE. 

niche,  and  Cudjo's  was  nowhere  visible;  yet  the  whole 
interior  was  luminous  with  a  dim  and  silvery  halo.  A 
narrow  corridor  ran  round  the  sides,  and  resembled  a  dark 
ring  swimming  in  nebulous  light,  midway  between  the 
upper  and  nether  hemispheres  of  the  wondrous  hollow 
globe.  Within  this  horizontal  rim,  floor  there  was  none  ; 
and  they  stood  upon  its  brink ;  and,  looking  up,  they  saw 
the  marvellous  vault  all  sparkling  with  stars  and  beaming 
with  pale,  pendent,  taper,  crystalline  flames,  noiseless  and 
still ;  and,  looking  down,  beheld  beneath  their  feet,  and 
shining  with  a  yet  more  soft  and  dreamy  lustre,  the  per- 
fect counterpart  of  the  vault  above. 

Penn  held  Virginia  upon  the  verge.  A  bewildering 
ecstasy  captivated  her  reason  as  she  gazed.  They  seemed 
to  be  really  in  the  grotto  of  some  nymph  who  had  fled  the 
instant  she  saw  her  privacy  invaded,  or  veiled  the  immor- 
tal mystery  and  loveliness  of  her  charms  in  some  mesh  of 
the  glimmering  nimbus  that  baffled  and  entangled  the 
sight.  Save  one  or  two  stifled  cries  of  rapture  from 
Virginia  and  Carl,  not  a  syllable  was  uttered  :  perfect 
stillness  prevailed,  until  Penn  said,  in  a  whisper,  — 

"  Wouldst  thou  like  to  see  the  face  of  Undine  r  Bend 
forward.  Do  not  fear  :  I  hold  thee  !  " 

By  gentle  compulsion  he  induced  her  to  comply.  She 
bent  over  the  brink,  and  looked  down,  when,  lo  !  out  of 
the  hazy  effulgence  beneath,  emerged  a  face  looking  up  at 
her —  a  face  dimly  seen,  yet  full  of  vague  wonder  and  sur- 
prise —  a  face  of  unrivalled  sweetness  and  beauty,  Penn 


THE    WONDERS    OF    THE    CAVE.  413 

thought.  What  did  Virginia  think  ?  —  for  it  was  the 
reflection  of  her  own. 

"  O,  Penn  !  how  it  startled  me  !  " 

"  But  isn't  she  a  Grace  ?     Isn't  she  loveliness  itself?  " 

"  I  hope  you  think  so  !  "  she  whispered,  with  arch 
frankness,  a  sweet  coquettish  confidence  ravishing  tc 
his  soul. 

"I  do  ! "  And  in  the  privacy  of  telling  her  so,  his 
lips  just  brushed  her  ear.  Did  you  ever,  in  whispering 
some  secret  trifle,  some  all-important,  heavenly  nothing, 
just  brush  the  dearest  little  ear  in  the  world  with  your 
lips  ?  or,  in  listening  to  the  syllables  of  divine  nonsense, 
feel  the  warm  breath  and  light  touch  of  the  magnetic 
thrilling  mouth  ?  Then  you  know  something  of  what 
Penn  and  Virginia  experienced  for  a  brief  moment  in  the 
Grotto  of  Undine. 

Just  then  a  duplicate  glow,  like  a  double  sunrise,  one 
part  above  and  the  other  below  the  horizon,  appeared  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  grotto.  It  increased,  until  they 
saw  come  forth  from  behind  an  upright  rock  an  upright 
torch  ;  and  at  the  same  time,  from  behind  a  suspended 
rock  beneath,  an  inverted  torch.  Immediately  after  two 
Cudjoes  came  in  sight ;  one  standing  erect  on  the  rock 
above,  and  the  other  standing  upside  down  on — or  rathei 
under  —  the  rock  below. 

"  Take  your  torch,  Carl,"  said  Penn,  "  and  go  around 
and  meet  him." 

The  boy  retxirned  to  the  niche ;  and  presently  two 
35* 


414  THE     WONDERS    OF    THE    CAVE. 

Carls,  with  tAvo  torches,  were  seen  moving  around  the  rim 
of  the  corridor,  one  upright  above,  the  other  walking  mi- 
raculously, head  downwards,  below. 

The  two  Carls  had  not  reached  the  rock,  when  the  two 
Cudjoes  stooped,  and  took  up  each  a  stone  and  threw 
them.  One  fell  upward  (so  to  speak),  as  the  oth,er  fell 
downward  :  they  met  in  the  centre  :  there  was  a  strange 
clash,  which  echoed  through  the  hollow  halls  ;  and  in  a 
moment  the  entire  nether  hemisphere  of  the  enchanted 
grotto  was  shattered  into  numberless  flashing  and  undu- 
lating fragments. 

Virginia  had  already  perceived  that  the  appearance  of  a 
concave  sphere  was  an  illusion  produced  by  the  ceiling 
lighted  by  Cudjo's  hidden  torch,  and  mirrored  in  a  floor  of 
glassy  water.  Yet  she  was  entirely  unprepared  for  this 
astonishing  result ;  and  at  sight  of  the  Cudjo  beneath 
instantaneously  annihilated  by  the  plashing  of  a  stone, 
she  started  back  with  a  scream.  Fortunately,  Penn  still 
held  her  close,  no  doubt  in  a  fit  of  abstraction,  forgetting 
that  his  arms  were  no  longer  necessary  to  prevent  her 
falling,  as  when  she  leaned  to  look  at  the  shadowy 
Undine. 

"All  those  stalactites,"  said  he,  as  the  two  torches  were 
held  towards  the  roof,  "  are  of  the  most  beautiful  crystal- 
line structure  ;  and  the  spaces  between  are  all  studded 
with  brilliant  spars.  The  first  time  I  was  here,  it  was 
April ;  the  mountain  springs  were  full,  and  every  one 
of  these  stone  ieicles  was  dripping  with  water  that  perco- 


THE     WONDERS    OF    THE    CAVE.  415 

lated  through  the  strata  above.  The  effect  was  almost  as 
surprising  as  what  we  saw  before  Cudjo  cast  the  stone. 
The  surface  of  the  pool  seemed  all  leaping  and  alive  with 
perpetual  showers  of  dancing  pearls.  But  now  the 
springs  are  low,  or  the  water  has  found  another  channel. 
Yet  this  basin  is  always  full." 

"  Why,  so  it  is!  I  had  no  idea  the  water  was  so  near!  " 
And  Virginia,  stooping,  dipped  her  hand. 

The  mirrored  crystals  were  still  coruscating  and  wav- 
ing in  the  ripples,  as  they  passed  around  the  rim  of 
rock,  and  followed  Cudjo  into  a  scarcely  less  beautiful 
chamber  beyond. 

Here  was  no  water  ;  but  in  its  place  was  a  floor  of  ala- 
baster, from  which  arose  a  great  variety  of  pure  white 
stalagmites,  to  meet  each  its  twin  stalactite  pendent  from 
above.  In  some  cases  they  did  actually  meet  and  grow 
together  in  perfect  pillars,  reaching  from  floor  to  roof. 

"  The  stalagmites  are  very  beautiful,"  said  Virginia  ; 
"  biit  the  stalactites  are  still  more  beautiful." 

"  I  think,"  said  Penn,  "  there  is  a  moral  truth  sym- 
boliz-^d  by  them.  As  the  rock  above  gives  forth  its 
streaming  life,  it  benefits  and  beautifies  the  rock  below, 
while  at  the  same  time  it  adorns  still  more  richly  its  own 
beautiful  breast.  So  it  always  is  with  Charity :  it  blesses 
him  that  receives,  but  it  blesses  far  more  richly  him  that 
gives." 

"  O,  must  we  pass  on  ?"  said  Virginia,  casting  long 
ing  eyes  towards  all  those  lovely  forms. 


416  THE    WONDERS    OF    THE    CAVE. 

"  We  are  to  return  the  same  way,"  replied  Perm. 
"  But  now  Cudjo  seems  to  be  in  a  hurry." 

"  Dat's  de  last  ob  de  sticktights,"  cried  the  black, 
standing  at  the  end  of  the  colonnade,  and  waving  his  torch 
above  his  head.  "  Now  we's  comin'  to  de  run." 

"  Come,"  said  Penn,  "  and  I  will  show  thee  what  Hood 
must  have  meant  by  the  '  dark  arch  of  the  black  flowing 
river.' " 

A  stupendous  cavern  of  seemingly  endless  extent  opened 
before  them.  Cudjo  ran  on  ahead,  shouting  wildly  under 
the  hollow,  reverberating  dome,  and  waving  his  torch, 
which  soon  appeared  far  off,  like  a  flaming  star  amid  a  night 
of  darkness.  Then  there  were  two  stars,  which  separated, 
and,  standing  one  above  the  other,  remained  stationary. 

"  Listen !  "  said  Penn.  And  they  heard  the  liquid 
murmur  of  flowing  water. 

He  took  the  torch  from  Carl,  and  advancing  towards 
the  right  wall  of  the  cavern,  showed,  flowing  out  of  it, 
through  a  black,  arched  opening,  a  river  of  inky  black- 
ness. It  rolled,  with  scarce  a  ripple,  slow,  and  solemn, 
and  still,  out  of  that  impenetrable  mystery,  and  swept 
along  between  the  wall  on  one  side  and  a  rocky  bank  on 
the  other.  By  this  bank  they  followed  it,  until  they  came 
to  a  natural  bridge,  formed  by  a  limestone  cliff,  through 
which  it  had  worn  its  channel,  and  under  which  it  disap- 
peared. On  this  bridge  they  found  Cudjo  perched  above 
the  water  with  his  torch. 

They   passed   the   bridge  without   crossing,  —  for   the 


THE    WONDERS    OF    THE    CAVE.  417 

farther  end  abutted  high  upon  the  cavern  wall,  —  and 
found  the  river  again  flowing  out  on  the  lower  side. 
Few  words  were  spoken.  The  vastness  of  the  cave,  the 
darkness,  the  mystery,  the  inky  and  solemn  stream  pur- 
suing its  noiseless  course,  impressed  them  all.  Suddenly 
Virginia  exclaimed,  — 

"  Light  ahead  !  "  though  Carl  was  with  her,  and  Cudjo 
now  walked  behind. 

It  was  a  gray  glimmer,  which  rapidly  grew  to  daylight 
as  they  advanced. 

"  It  is  the  chasm,  or  sink,  where  the  roof  of  the  cave 
has  fallen  in,"  said  Penn. 

While  he  spoke,  a  muffled  rustling  of  wings  was  heard 
above  their  heads.  They  looked  up,  and  saw  numbers 
of  large  black  bats,  startled  by  the  torches,  darting  hither 
and  thither  under  the  dismal  vault.  Birds,  too,  flew  out 
from  their  hiding-places  as  they  advanced,  and  flapped 
and  screamed  in  the  awful  gloom. 

To  save  the  torches  for  their  return,  Cudjo  now  extin- 
guished them.  They  walked  in  the  brghtcning  twi- 
light along  the  bank  of  the  stream,  and  found,  to  the 
surprise  and  delight  of  Virginia,  some  delicate  ferns  and 
pale  green  shrubs  growing  in  the  crevices  of  the  rock. 
Vegetation  increased  as  they  proceeded,  until  they  arrived 
at  the  sink,  and  saw  before  them  steep  banks  covered 
with  vines,  thickets,  and  forcr-t  trees. 

The  river,  whose  former  course  had  evidently  been 
Btopped  by  the  falling  in  of  the  forest,  here  made  a  curve  to 


418  THE     WONDERS    OF    THE    CAVE. 

the  right  around  the  banks,  and  half  disappeared  in  a 
channel  it  had  hollowed  for  itself  under  the  cliff.  Here 
they  left  it,  and  climbed  to  the  open  day. 

"  How  strangely  yellow  the  sunshine  looks  !  "  snid  Vir- 
ginia. "  It  seems  as  though  I  had  colored  glasses  on. 
And  how  sultry  the  air  !  " 

She  looked  up  at  the  towering  rocks  that  walled  the 
chasm,  and  at  the  trees  upon  whose  roots  she  stood,  and 
whose  tops  waved  in  the  summer  breeze  and  sunshine,  at 
the  level  of  the  mountain  slope  so  far  above.  She  could 
also  see,  on  the  summit  of  the  cliffs,  the  charred  skeletons 
of  trees  the  late  fire  had  destroyed. 

"  It  was  here,"  said  Penn,  "  that  Stackridge  and  his 
friends  escaped.  This  leaning  tree  with  its  low  branches 
forms  a  sort  of  ladder  to  the  limbs  of  that  larger  one ; 
and  by  these  it  is  easy  to  climb '' 

As  he  was  speaking,  all  eyes  were  turned  upwards ;  when 
suddenly  Cudjo  uttered  a  v.-aming  whistle,  and  dropped 
flat  upon  the  ground. 

"  A  man  ! "  said  Carl,  crouching  at  the  foot  of  the 
tree. 

Penn  did  not  fall  or  crouch,  nor  did  Virginia  scream, 
although,  looking  up  through  the  scant  leafage,  they  saw, 
standing  on  the  cliff,  and  looking  down  straight  at  them, 
at  the  same  time  waving  his  hand  exultantly,  one  whom 
they  well  knew  —  their  enemv,  SILAS  ROPES. 


t-ROMETHEUS   BOUND.  419 


XLI. 


PROMETHEUS    BOUND. 


^^  T  the  wave  of  the  lieutenant's  hand,  a  squad 
of  soldiers  rushed  to  the  spot.  In  a  minute  their 
muskets  were  pointed  downwards,  and  aimed. 

"  Fly ! "  said  Penn,  thrusting  Virginia  from  him. 
"  Carl,  take  her  away  !  " 

The  boy  drew  her  back  down  the  rocks,  following 
Cudjo,  who  was  descending  on  all  fours,  like  an  ape.  She 
turned  her  face  in  terror  to  look  after  Penn.  There  he 
stood,  where  she  had  left  him,  intrepid,  his  fine  head  un- 
covered, looking  steadfastly  up  at  the  men  on  the  cliff,  and 
waving  his  hat,  defiantly.  At  once  she  recognized  his 
noble  self-sacrifice.  It  was  his  object  to  attract  their 
fire,  and  so  shield  her  from  the  bullets  as  she  fled. 

She  struggled  from  Carl's  grasp.  "  O,  Penn/'  she 
cried,  extending  her  hands  beseechingly,  and  starting  to 
return  to  him. 

"  Fire  !  "  shouted  Silas"  Ropes. 

Crack !    went   a    gun,    immediately    succeeded    by  a» 


420  PROMETHEUS   KG  UNO. 

irregular  volley,  like  a  string  of  exploding  fire-crackers. 
Penn,  expecting  death,  saw  first  the  rapid  flashes,  then  the 
soldiers  half  concealed  by  the  smoke  of  their  own  guns. 
The  smoke  cleared,  and  there  he  still  stood,  smiling  — 
for  Virginia  was  unhurt. 

"  Your  practice  is  very  poor !  "  he  shouted  up  at  the 
soldiers ;  and,  putting  on  his  hat,  he  walked  calmly  away. 

The  bullets  had  struck  the  trees  and  flattened  on  the 
stones  all  around  him  ;  but  he  was  untouched.  And  be- 
fore the  rebels  could  reload  their  pieces,  he  was  safe  with 
his  companions  in  the  cavern. 

He  found  Cudjo  hastily  relighting  his  torch.  Virginia 
was  sitting  on  a  stone  where  Carl  had  placed  her ;  pow- 
erless with  the  reaction  of  fear  ;  her  countenance,  white 
as  that  of  a  snow-image  in  the  gloom,  turned  upon  Penn 
as  if  she  knew  not  whether  it  was  really  he,  or  his  ap- 
parition. She  did  not  rise  to  meet  him.  She  could  not 
speak.  Her  eyes  were  as  the  eyes  of  one  that  beholds  a 
miracle  of  God's  mercy. 

"  Is  no  guns  here  : "  cried  Carl. 

"  De  men  hab  all  urn's  guns,"  said  Cudjo,  over  his 
kindlings.  "  Me  gwine  fotch  'em ! "  And,  his  torch 
lighted,  he  darted  away.  In  a  minute  he  was  out  of 
sight  and  hearing ;  only  the  flame  he  bore  could  be  seen 
dancing  like  an  ignis  fatuus  in  the  darkness  of  the 
cavern. 

"  O,  if  I  had  only  that  pistol",  Carl !  "  said  Penn.  "  I 
could  manage  to  defend  the  chasm  with  it  until  they 


PROMETHEUS   BOUND.  421 

come.  But  wishes  won't  help  us.  Virginia,  Deslow  has 
turned  traitor !  He  must  have  known  his  friends  were 
going  this  morning  to  visit  thy  father,  or  else  he  could 
not  so  well  have  chosen  his  time  for  betraying  them." 
He  lighted  his  torch,  and  lifted  Virginia  to  her  feet. 
"  Have  no  fear.  Even  if  the  rebels  get  possession  here, 
the  subterranean  passages  can  be  held  by  a  dozen  men 
against  a  hundred." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  now  ;  I  am  quite  strong." 

"  That  is  well.     Carl,  take  the  light  and  go  with  her." 

"  And  vat  shall  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  will  stay  and  watch  the  movements  of  the  soldiers." 

"  Wery  goot.     But  I  have  vun  little  obshection." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  You  know  the  vay  petter,  and  you  vill  take  her  safer 
as  I  can.  But  my  eyes  is  wery  wigorons,  and  I  vill  engage 
to  vatch  the  cusses  myself." 

"  Thou  art  right,  my  Carl ! "  said  Penn,  who  indeed 
felt  that  it  was  for  him,  and  for  no  other,  to  convey  Vir- 
ginia back  to  her  father  and  safety. 

He  crept  upon  the  rocks,  and  took  a  last  observation 
of  the  cliffs.  Not  a  soldier  was  in  sight.  But  that  fac't 
did  not  delight  him  much. 

'•  They  fear  a  possible  shot  or  two.  No  doubt  they 
are  making  preparations,  and  when  all  is  ready  they  will 
descend.  I  only  hope  they  will  delay  long  enough ! 
Farewell,  Carl !  " 

"  Goot  pie,  Penn  !  Goot  pie,  Wirginie  !  "  cried  Carl, 
36 


422  PROMETHEUS   SOU XI). 

with  stout  heart  and  cheery  voice.  And  as  he  saw  their, 
depart,  —  Penn's  arm  supporting  her,  —  listened  for  the 
last  murmur  of  their  voices,  and  watched  for  the  last 
glimmer  of  the  torch  as  it  was  swallowed  by  the  dark- 
ness, and  he  was  left  alone,  he  continued  to  smile 
grimly ;  but  his  eyes  were  dim. 

"  They  are  wery  happy  together  !  And  I  susphect  the 
time  vill  come  ven  he  vill  marry  her ;  and  then  they  vill 
neither  of  'em  care  much  for  me.  Veil,  I  shall  love  'em, 
and  wish  'em  happy  all  the  "ame  ! '' 

With  which  thought  he  smiled  still  more  resolutely 
than  before,  and  squeezed  the  tears  from  his  eyes  very 
tenderly,  in  order,  probably,  to  keep  those  useful  organs 
as  "  wigorous "  as  possible  for  the  work  before  him. 

Handcuffed  and  securely  bound  to  the  rock,  that  mod- 
ern Prometheus,  Captain  Lysander  Sprowl,  like  his 
mythical  prototype,  felt  the  vulture's  beak  in  his  vitals. 
Chagrin  devoured  his  liver.  An  overflow  of  southern 
bile  was  the  result,  and  he  turned  yellow  to  the  whites 
of  his  eyes. 

Old  Toby  noticed  the  phenomenon.  Poor  old  Toby, 
with  that  foolish  head  and  large  tropical  heart  of  his, 
knew  no  better  than  to  feel  a  movement  of  compassion. 

"  Kin  uh  do  anyting  fur  ye,  sar  ?  " 

The  unfeigned  sympathy  of  the  question  gave  the  wily 
Prometheus  his  cue.  He  uttered  a  feeble  moan,  and 
studied  to  look  as  much  sicker  than  he  was  as  possible. 


PROMETHEUS    BOUND.  423 

Pity  at  the  sight  made  the  old  negro  forget  much  which 
a  white  man  would  have  been  apt  to  remember  —  the 
disgrace  this  wretch  had  brought  upon  "  the  family ; " 
and  the  recent  cruel  whipping,  from  which  his  own  back 
was  still  sore. 

"  Ye  pooty  sick,  sar  :  " 

"  Water  !  "  gasped  Lysander. 

The  patriots  had  finished  their  coffee  and  taken  their 
guns.  Toby  ran  to  them. 

"  Some  on  ye  be  so  good  as  keep  an  eye  skinned  on 
de  prisoner,  while  I's  gittin'  him  a  drink ! " 

He  hastened  with  the  gourd  to  a  dark  interior  niche 
where  a  little  trickling  spring  dripped,  drop  by  drop,  into 
a  basin  hollowed  in  the  rocky  floor.  As  he  bore  it,  cool 
and  brimming,  to  his  captive-patient,  Withers  said,  — 

"  I  don't  keer  !  it's  a  sight  to  make  most  white  folks 
ashamed  of  their  Christianity,  to  see  that  old  nigger  wait- 
ing on  that  rascal,  'fore  his  own  back  has  done  smarting !  " 

"  If,  as  I  believe,"  said  Mr.  Villars,  "  men  stand  ap- 
proved before  God,  not  for  their  pride  of  intellect  or  of 
birth,  but  far  the  love  that  is  in  their  hearts,  who  can 
doubt  but  there  will  be  higher  seats  in  heaven  for  many 
a  poor  black  man  than  for  their  haughty  masters  ?  " 

"  According  to  that,"  replied  Withers,  "  maybe  some 
besides  the  haughty  masters  will  be  a  little  astonished 
if  they  ever  git  into  heaven  —  nigger-haters  that  won't 
set  in  a  car,  or  a  meeting-house,  or  to  see.  a  theatre-play, 
if  there's  a  nigger  allowed  the  same  privilege !  Now  I 


424  PROMETHEUS   BOtXD. 

never  was  any  thing  of  an  emancipationist ;  but  by 
George !  if  there's  anything  I  detest,  it's  this  etarnal  and 
unreasonable  prejudice  agin'  niggers !  How  do  you  ac- 
count for  it,  Mr.  Villars  :  " 

"  Prejudice,"  said  the  old  man,  "  is  always  a  mark  of 
narrowness  and  ignorance.  You  might  almost,  I  think, 
decide  the  question  of  a  man's  Christianity  by  his  answer 
to  this  :  '  What  is  your  feeling  towards  the  negro  ? '  The 
larger  his  heart  and  mind,  the  more  compassionate  and 
generous  will  be  his  views.  But  where  you  find  most 
bigotry  and  ignorance,  there  you  will  find  the  negro  hated 
most  violently.  I  think  there  are  men  in  the  free  states 
whose  sins  of  prejudice  and  blind  passion  against  the  un- 
happy race  are  greater  than  those  of  the  slaveholders 
themselves." 

"  Our  interest  is  in  our  property  —  that's  nat'ral ;  but 
what  possesses  them  to  want  to  see  the  nigger's  face  held 
tight  to  the  grindstone,  and  never  let  up  ?  "  said  Withers. 
;'  Their  howl  now  is,  '  Put  down  the  rebellion  !  but  don't 
tech  slaver)',  and  don't  bring  in  the  nigger!'  As  if, 
arter  dogs  had  been  killing  my  sheep,  you  should  preach 
to  me,  '  Save  your  sheep,  neighbor,  but  don't  agitate  the 
dog  question !  You  mustn't  tech  the  dogs  ! '  I  say,  if 
the  dogs  begin  the  trouble,  they  must  take  the  conse- 
quences, even  if  my  dog's  one." 

"  They  maintain,"  said  Grudd,  "  that,  no  matter  what 
slavery  may  have  done,  there  is  no  power  in  the  consti- 
tution to  destroy  it." 


PROMETHEUS   BOUND.  425 

"  I  am  reminded  of  a  story  my  daughter  Virginia  was 
reading  to  me  not  long  ago,  —  how  the  great  polar  bear  is 
sometimes  killed.  The  hunter  has  a  spear,  near  the  pointed 
end  of  which  is  securely  fastened  a  strong  cross-piece.  The 
bear,  you  know,  is  aggressive  ;  he  advances,  meets  the 
levelled  shaft,  seizes  the  cross-piece  with  his  powerful 
arms,  and  with  a  growl  of  rage  hugs  the  spear-head  into  his 
heart.  Now,  slavery  is  just  such  another  great,  stupid, 
ferocious  monster.  The  constitution  is  the  spear  of  Lib- 
erty. The  cross-piece,  if  you  like,  is  the  republican  policy 
which  has  been  nailed  to  it,  and  which  has  given  the  bear 
a  hold  upon  it.  He  is  hugging  it  into  his  heart.  He  is 
destroying  himself.'' 

The  story  was  scarcely  ended  when  Cudjo  leaped  into 
the  circle,  crying,  — 

"  De  sogers  !  de  sogers  !  " 

"  Where  ?"  said  Pomp,  instinctively  springing  to  his  rifle. 

"  In  de  sink  !     Dey  fire  onto  we  and  de  young  lady  !  " 

"  Any  one  hurt  ?  " 

"  No.  Massa  Hapgood  cotch  de  bullets  in  him's  hat !  " 
for  this  was  the  impression  the  negro  had  brought  away 
with  him.  "  Hull  passel  sogers  !  Sile  Ropes,  —  seed 
him  fust  ob  all !  " 

It  was  some  moments  before  the  patriots  fully  compre- 
hended this  alarming  intelligence.  But  Pomp  understood 
it  instantly. 

"  Gentlemen,  will  you  fight  ?  Your  side  of  the  house 
is  attacked  ! " 

36* 


426  PROMETHEUS   BOUND. 

There  was  a  moment's  confusion.  Then  those  who  had 
not  already  taken  their  guns,  sprang  to  them.  They  had 
brought  lanterns,  which  were  now  burning.  They  plunged 
into  the  gallery,  following  Pomp.  Cudjo  ran  for  his  sword, 
drew  it  from  the  scabbard,  and  ran  yelling  after  them. 

The  sudden  tumult  died  in  the  depths  of  the  cavern  ; 
and  all  was  still  again  before  those  left  behind  had  recov- 
ered from  their  astonishment. 

There  was  one  whose  astonishment  was  largely  mixed 
with  joy.  A  moment  since  he  was  lying  like  a  man  near 
the  last  gasp  ;  but  now  he  started  up,  singularly  forgetful 
of  his  dying  condition,  until  reminded  of  it  by  feeling  the 
restraint  of  the  rope  and  seeing  Toby.  Lysander  sank 
back  with  a  groan. 

"  'Pears  like  you's  a  little  more  chirk,"  said  Toby. 

"  My  head  !  my  head  !  "  said  Lysander.  "  My  skull  is 
fractured.  Can't  you  loose  the  rope  a  little  ?  The  strain 
on  my  wrists  is  — '"  ending  the  sentence  with  a  faint 
moan. 

Had  Toby  forgotten  the  strain  on  his  wrists,  and  the 
anguish  of  the  thumbs,  when  this  same  cruel  Lysander 
had  him  strung  up  ? 

"  Bery  sorry,  'deed,  sar !  But  I  can't  unloosen  de 
rope  fur  ye." 

And,  full  of  pity  as  he  was,  the  old  negro  resolutely 
remained  faithful  to  his  charge.  Sprowl  tried  complaints, 
coaxing,  promises,  but  in  vain. 

"  Well,  then,"   said  he,  "  I  have  only  one  request  to 


JPROMETHEUS    ROUND.  427 

make.  Let  me  see  my  wife,  and  ask  her  forgiveness 
before  I  die." 

"  Dat  am  bery  reason'ble ;  I'll  speak  to  her,  sar." 
And,  without  losing  sight  of  his  prisoner,  Toby  went  to 
Cudjo's  pantry,  now  Virginia's  dressing-room,  into  which 
Salina  had  retreated,  and  notified  her  of  the  dying 
request. 

Salina  was  in  one  of  her  most  discontented  moods. 
What  had  she  fled  to  the  mountain  for  ?  she  angrily  asked 
herself.  After  the  first  gush  of  grateful  emotion  on  meet- 
ing her  father  and  sister,  she  had  begun  quickly  to  see 
that  she  was  not  wanted  there.  Then  she  looked  around 
despairingly  on  the  dismal  accommodations  of  the  cave. 
She  had  not  that  sustaining  affection,  that  nobleness  of 
purpose,  which  enabled  her  father  and  sister  to  endure  so 
cheerfully  all  the  hardships  of  their  present  situation. 
The  rude,  coarse  life  up  there,  the  inconveniences,  the 
miseries,  which  provoked  only  smiles  of  patience  from 
them,  filled  her  with  disgust  and  spleen. 

But  there  was  one  sorer  sight  to  those  irritated  eyes 
than  all  else  they  saw  —  her  captive  husband.  She  could 
not  forget  that  he  was  her  husband ;  and,  whether  she 
loved  or  hated  him,  she  could  not  bear  to  witness  his 
degradation.  Yet  she  could  not  keep  her  eyes  off  of  him  ; 
and  so  she  had  shut  herself  up. 

"  He  wishes  to  speak  with  me  ?  To  ask  my  forgive- 
ness ?  Well !  he  shall  have  a  chance  !  " 

She  went  and  stood  over  the  prisoner,  looking  down 
upon  him  coldly,  but  with  compressed  lips. 


428  PROMETHEUS   BOUND. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want  of  me  ? " 

Sprowl  made  a  motion  for  Toby  to  retire.  Humbly 
the  old  negro  obeyed,  feeling  that  he  ought  not  to  intrude 
upon  the  interview  ;  yet  keeping  his  eye  still  on  the  pris- 
oner, and  his  hand  on  the  pistol. 

"  Sal,"  —  in  a  low  voice,  looking  up  at  her,  and  show- 
ing his  manacled  hands,  —  "  are  you  pleased  to  see  me  in 
this  condition  ?  " 

"  I'd  rather  see  you  dead !  If  I  were  you,  I'd  kill 
myself !  " 

"  There's  a  knife  on  the  table  behind  you.  Give  it  to 
me,  free  my  hands,  and  you  won't  have  to  repeat  your 
advice." 

She  merely  glanced  over  her  shoulder  at  the  knife,  then 
bent  her  scowling  looks  once  more  on  him. 

"  A  captain  in  the  confederate  army  !  outwitted  and 
taken  prisoner  by  a  boy  !  kept  a  prisoner  by  an  old 
negro  !  This,  then,  is  the  military  glory  you  bragged  of 
in  advance  !  And  I  was  going  to  be  so  proud  of  being 
your  wife  !  Well,  I  am  proud  !  " 

There  was  gall  in  her  words.  They  made  Lysander 
writhe. 

"  Bad  luck  will  happen,  you  know.  Once  out  of  this 
gcrape,  you'll  see  what  I'll  do  !  Come,  Sal,  now  be  good 
to  me." 

"  Good  to  you !  I've  tried  that,  and  what  did  J 
get  for  it?" 

"  I  own   I've  given  you  good  cause  to  hate  me.     I'm 


PROMETHEUS   BOUND.  429 

sorry  for  it.  The  truth  is,  we  never  understood  each 
other,  Sal.  You  was  always  quick  and  sharp  yourself; 
you'll  confess  that.  You  know  how  easy  it  is  to  irritate 
me ;  and  I'm  a  devil  when  in  a  passion.  But  all  that's 
past.  Hate  me,  if  you  will  —  I  deserve  it.  But  you 
don't  want  to  see  me  eternally  disgraced,  I  know." 

She  laughed  disdainfully.  "  If  you  will  disgrace  your- 
self, how  can  I  help  it  ? " 

'•  The  other  end  of  the  cave  is  attacked,  and  it  is  sure 
to  be  carried.  I  shall  soon  be  in  the  hands  of  my  own 
men.  If  I  don't  succeed  in  doing  something  for  myself 
first,  it'll  be  impossible  for  me  to  regain  the  position 
I've  lost." 

"Well,    do    something    for   yourself!       What    hinders 

you  ? " 

"  This  cursed  rope  !  I  wouldn't  mind  the  handcuffs 
if  the  rope  was  away.  Just  a  touch  with  that  knife  — 
that's  all,  Sal." 

"  Yes  !  and  then  what  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  Run." 

"  And  lose  no  time  in  sending  your  men  to  attack  this 
end  of  the  cave,  too  !  O,  I  know  you  ! " 

"  I  swear  to  you,  Sal !  I  never  will  take  advantage  of 
it  in  that  way,  if  you  will  do  me  just  this  little  favor.  It 
will  be  worth  my  life  to  me ;  and  it  shall  cost  you  nothing, 
nor  your  friends." 

"  Hush  !  I  know  too  well  what  your  promises  amount 
to.  How  can  I  depend  even  upon  your  oath  ?  There's 
no  truth  or  honor  in  you  !  " 


430  PROMETHEUS    HOUND. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  Lysander,  despairingly. 

"  Well,  I  am  going  to  help  you,  for  all  that.  Only  it 
must  not  appear  as  if  I  did  it.  And  you  shall  keep  your 
oath,  —  or  one  of  us  shall  die  for  it !  Now  be  still !  " 

She  walked  back  past  the  block  that  served  as  a  table, 
and,  when  between  it  and  Toby,  quietly  took  the  knife 
from  it,  concealing  it  in  her  sleeve. 

"  Don't  come  for  me  to  hear  any  more  dying  requests," 
she  said  to  the  old  negro,  with  a  sneer.  "  Your  pris- 
oner will  survive.  Only  give  him  a  little  coffee,  if  luere 
is  any.  Here  is  some  :  I  will  wait  upon  him." 

And,  carrying  the  coffee,  she  dropped  the  knife  »».  Ly- 
sander's  side. 


PROMETHEUS     UNBOUND.  481 


XLII. 


PROMETHEUS    UNBOUND. 


IVE  minutes  later  Penn  and  Virginia  arrived. 
Penn  ran  eagerly  for  his  musket.  At  the 
same  time,  looking  about  the  cave,  he  was 
surprised  to  see  only  the  old  clergyman  sitting  by  the  fire, 
and  Prometheus  reclining  by  his  rock. 

"  Where  is  Salina  ?     Where  is  Toby  ?  " 

"  Toby  has  just  left  his  charge  to  see  what  discovery 
Salina  has  made  outside.  She  went  out  previously  and 
thought  she  saw  soldiers." 

At  that  moment  Toby  came  running  in. 

"  Bar's  some  men  way  down  by  the  ravine  !  O,  sar ! 
I's  bery  glad  you's  come,  sar  ! " 

Having  announced  the  discovery,  and  greeted  Penn 
and  Virginia,  he  went  to  look  at  his  prisoner.  He  had 
been  absent  from  him  but  a  minute  :  he  found  him  ly- 
ing as  he  had  left  him,  and  did  not  reflect,  simple  old 
soul,  how  much  may  be  secretly  accomplished  by  a  des- 
perate villain  in  that  brief  space  of  time. 


432  PEOMETHEUS    UNBOUND. 

Penn  took  Pomp's  glass,  climbed  along  the  rocky  shelf, 
peered  over  the  thickets,  and  saw  on  the  bank  of  the 
ravine,  where  Salina  pointed  them  out  to  him,  several 
men.  They  were  some  distance  below  Gad's  Leap  (as 
he  named  the  place  where  the  spy  met  his  death),  and 
seemed  to  be  occupied  in  extinguishing  a  fire.  He  lev- 
elled the  glass.  The  recent  burning  of  the  trees  and 
undergrowth  had  cleared  the  field  for  its  operation.  His 
eye  sparkled  as  he  lowered  it. 

"  I  recognize  one  of  our  friends  in  a  new  uniform  !  "  — 
handing  the  glass  to  Salina. 

Returning  to  the  cave,  he  added,  in  Virginia's  ear,  — 

"  Augustus  Bythewood !  " 

The  bright  young  brow  contracted :  "  Not  coming 
here  ?  " 

"  I  trust  not.  Yet  his  proximity  means  mischief. 
Pomp  will  be  interested  !  " 

He  took  his  torch  and  gun.  There  was  no  time  for 
adieus.  In  a  moment  he  was  gone.  There  was  one  who 
had  been  waiting  with  anxious  eyes  and  handcuffed  hands 
to  see  him  go. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Villars  had  called  Toby  to  him,  and 
said,  in  a  low  voice, — 

"  Is  all  right  with  your  prisoner  ?  " 

"  O,  yes ;  he  am  bery  quiet,  'pears  like." 

"  You  must  look  out  for  him.  He  is  crafty.  I  feel 
that  all  is  not  right.  When  you  were  out,  I  thought  I 
heard  something  like  the  sawing  or  tearing  of  a  cord 
Look  to  him,  Toby." 


PROMETHEUS    UNBOUND.  438 

"  O,  yes,  sar,  I  shall !  "  And  the  confident  old  negr« 
approached  the  rock. 

There  lay  the  rope  about  the  base  of  it,  still  firmly  tied 
on  the  side  opposite  the  prisoner.  And  there  crouched 
he,  in  the  same  posture  of  durance  as  before,  except  thaf 
now  he  had  his  legs  well  under  him.  His  handcuffed 
hands  lay  on  the  rope. 

"  Right  glad  ter  see  ye  convanescent,  sar  ! " 

Toby  was  bending  over,  examining  his  captive  with  a 
grin  of  satisfaction ;  when  the  latter,  in  a  weak  voice, 
made  a  humble  request. 

"  I  wish  you  would  put  on  my  cap." 

"  Wiv  all  de  pleasure  in  de  wuld,  sar." 

The  cap  had  been  thrown  off  purposely.  Unsuspecting 
old  Toby  !  The  pistol  was  in  his  pocket.  He  stooped  to 
pick  up  the  cap  and  place  it  on  Sprowl's  head  ;  when, 
like  a  jumping  devil  in  a  box  when  the  cover  is  touched, 
up  leaped  Lysander  on  his  legs,  knocking  him  down  with 
the  handcuffs,  and  springing  over  him. 

Before  the  old  man  was  fully  aware  of  what  had  hap- 
pened, and  long  before  he  had  regained  his  feet,  Lysander 
was  in  the  thickets.  In  his  hurry  he  thrust  his  wife  re- 
morselessly from  the  ledge  before  him,  and  flung  her  rudely 
down  upon  the  sharp  boughs  and  stones,  as  he  sped  by 
her.  There  Toby  found  her,  when  he  came  too  late  with 
his  pistol.  Her  hands  were  cut ;  but  she  did  not  care  f  r 
her  hands.  Ingratitude  wounds  more  cruelly  than  sharp- 
edged  rocks. 

37 


434  PROMETHEUS    UNBOUND. 

Perm  had  judged  correctly  in  two  particulars.  Desknv 
had  turned  traitor.  And  the  personage  in  the  new  uni- 
form down  by  the  ravine  was  Lieutenant-Colonel  Bythe- 
wood. 

Deslow  had  gone  straight  to  head-quarters  after  quitting 
Withers  the  previous  night,  given  himself  up,  taken  the 
oath  of  allegiance  to  the  confederacy,  and  engaged  to  join 
the  army  or  provide  a  substitute.  As  if  this  were  not 
enough,  he  had  also  been  required  to  expose  the  secret 
retreat  of  his  late  companions.  To  this,  we  know  not 
whether  reluctantly,  he  had  consented;  and  it  was  this 
act  of  treachery  that  had  brought  Silas  Ropes  to  the  sink, 
and  Bythewood  to  the  ravine. 

Advantage  had  been  taken  of  the  fog  in  the  morning 
to  march  back  again,  up  the  mountain,  the  men  who  had 
marched  down,  baffled  and  inglorious,  after  the  wild- 
goose  chase  Carl  led  them  the  night  before.  Bythewood 
commanded  the  expedition  at  his  own  request,  being  par- 
ticularly interested  in  two  persons  it  was  designed  to  cap- 
ture —  Virginia  and  Pomp.  It  is  supposed  that  he  took  a 
sinister  interest  in  Penn  also. 

But  Bythewood  was  not  anxious  to  deprive  Ropes  of 
his  laurels ;  and  perhaps  he  felt  himself  to  be  too  fine  a 
gentleman  to  mix  in  a  vulgar  fight.  He  accordingly  sent 
Ropes  forward  to  surprise  the  patriots  at  the  sink,  while 
he  moved  with  a  small  force  cautiously  up  towards  Gad's 
Leap,  with  two  objects  in  view.  One  was,  to  make  some 
discovery,  if  possible,  with  regard  to  the  missing  Lysan- 


PROMETHEUS    UNBOUND.  435 

der  ;  the  other,  to  intercept  the  retreat  of  the  fugitives, 
should  they  be  driven  irom  the  cave  through  the  open- 
ing unknown  to  Deslow,  but  which  he  believed  to  be  in 
this  direction. 

The  firing  on  the  right  apprised  Augustus  that  the 
attack  had  commenced.  This  was  the  signal  for  him 
to  advance  boldly  up  from  the  ravine,  and  establish 
himself  on  an  elevation  commanding  a  view  of  the 
slopes.  Here  he  had  been  discovered  very  opportunely 
by  Salina,  Avho  was  seeking  some  pretext  for  calling  Toby 
from  his  prisoner.  In  the  shade  of  some  bushes  that  had 
escaped  the  fire,  he  sat  comfortably  smoking  his  cigar  on 
one  end  of  a  log,  which  was  smoking  on  its  own  account 
at  the  other  end. 

"  Put  out  that  fire,  some  of  you,"  said  Augustus. 

This  was  scarcely  done,  when  suddenly  a  man  came 
leaping  down  the  slope,  holding  his  hands  together 
in  a  very  singular  manner.  Bythewood  started  to  his 
feet. 

"  Deuce  take  me  !  "  said  he,  "  if  it  ain't  Lysander ! 
But  what's  the  matter  with  his  hands,  sergeant  ?  " 

"  Looks  to  me  as  though  he  had  bracelets  on,"  replied 
the  experienced  sergeant. 

Some  men  were  despatched  to  meet  and  bring  the  cap- 
tain in.  The  sergeant  found  a  key  in  his  pocket  to  unlock 
the  handcuffs.  Then  Lysander  told  the  story  of  his  cap- 
ture, which,  though  modified  to  suit  himself,  excited 
Bythewood's  derision.  This  stung  the  proud  captain, 


436  PROMETHEUS    UNBOUND 

who,  to  wash  the  stain  from  his  honor,  proposed  to 
take  a  squad  of  men  and  surprise  the  cave. 

Fired  by  the  prospect  of  seeing  Virginia  in  his  power, 
Augustus  had  but  one  important  order  to  give  :  "  Bring 
your  prisoners  to  me  here  !  " 

Instead  of  proceeding  directly  to  the  cave,  Lysander 
used  strategy.  He  knew  that  if  his  movements  were 
observed,  and  their  object  suspected,  Virginia  would 
have  ample  time  to  escape  with  her  father  and  old  Toby 
into  the  interior  caverns,  where  it  might  be  extremely 
difficult  to  discover  them.  He  accordingly  started  in  the 
direction  of  the  sink,  as  if  with  intent  to  reenforce  the 
soldiers  fighting  there  ;  then,  dropping  suddenly  into  a 
hollow,  he  made  a  short  turn  to  the  left,  and  advanced 
swiftly,  under  cover  of  rocks  and  bushes,  towards  the 
ledge  that  concealed  the  cave. 

"  How  could  you  let  him  go,  Toby !  "  cried  Virginia, 
filled  with  consternation  at  the  prisoner's  escape.  For 
she  saw  all  the  mischievous  consequences  that  were  likely 
to  follow  in  the  track  of  that  fatal  error:  Cudjo's  secret, 
so  long  faithfully  kept,  now  in  evil  hour  betrayed ;  the 
lave  attacked  and  captured,  and  the  brave  men  fighting  at 
the  sink,  believing  their  retreat  secure,  taken  suddenly  in 
the  rear ;  and  so  disaster,  if  not  death,  resulting  to  her 
father,  to  Penn,  to  all. 

The  anguish  of  her  tones  pierced  the  poor  old  negro's 
soul. 


PROMETHEUS    UNBOUND.  437 


',  missis,  no  more'n  you  do!  'Pears  like  he 
done  gnawed  off  de  rope  wiv  his  teef  !  "  For  Lysander, 
having  used  the  knife,  had  hidden  it  under  the  skins  on 
which  he  sat. 

Then  Salina  spoke,  and  denounced  herself.  After  all 
the  pains  she  had  taken  to  conceal  her  agency  in  Sprowl's 
escape,  —  inconsistent,  impetuous,  filled  with  rage  against 
herself  and  him,  —  she  exclaimed,  — 

"  I  did  it  !     Here  is  the  knife  I  gave  him  !  " 

Virginia  stood  white  and  dumb,  looking  at  her  sister. 
Tohy  could  only  tear  his  old  white  wool  and  groan. 

"  Salina,"  said  her  father,  solemnly,  "  you  have  done 
a  very  treacherous  and  wicked  thing  !  I  pity  you  !  " 

Severest  reproaches  could  not  have  stung  her  as  these 
words,  and  the  terrified  look  of  her  sister,  stung  the  proud 
and  sensitive  Salina. 

"  I  have  done  a  damnable  thing  !  I  know  it.  Do  you 
ask  what  made  me  ?  The  devil  made  me.  I  knew  it 
was  the  devil  at  the  time  ;  but  I  did  it." 

"  O,  what  shall  we  do,  father  ?  "  said  Virginia. 

"  There  is  nothing  you  can  do,  my  daughter,  unless 
you  can  reach  our  friends  and  warn  them." 

"  O,"  she  said,  in  despair,  "  there  is  not  a  lamp  or 
a  torch  !  All  have  been  taken  !  " 

"  And  it  is  well  !    It  would  take  you  at  least  an  hour 
to  go  and  return  ;  and  that  man  —  '"      Mr.  Villars  would 
never,  if  he  could  help  it,  speak  Lysauder's  name  —  "  will 
be  here  again  before  that  time,  if  he  is  coming." 
37* 


438  PROMETHEUS    UNBOUND. 

"  He  is  not  coming,"  said  Salina.  "  He  SAvore  to 
me  that  he  would  not  take  advantage  of  his  escape  to 
betray  or  injure  any  of  you.  He  will  keep  his  oath. 
If  he  does  not " 

She  paused.  There  was  a  long,  painful  silence ;  the 
old  man  musing,  Virginia  wringing  her  hands,  Toby 
keeping  watch  outside. 

"  Listen  !  "  said  Salina.  "  I  am  a  woman.  But  I 
will  defend  this  place.  I  will  stand  there,  and  not 
a  man  shall  enter  till  I  am  dead.  As  for  you,  Jinny, 
take  him,  and  go.  You  can  hide  somewhere  in  the 
caves.  Leave  me  and  Toby.  I  will  not  ask  you  to 
forgive  me ;  but  perhaps  some  time  you  will  think 
differently  of  me  from  what  you  do  now." 

"  Sister  !  "  said  Virginia,  with  emotion,  "  I  do  for- 
give you !  God  will  forgive  you  too ;  for  he  knows 
better  than  we  do  how  unhappy  you  have  been,  and 
that  you  could  not,  perhaps,  have  done  differently  from 
what  you  have  done." 

Salina  was  touched.  She  threw  her  arms  about  Vir- 
ginia's neck. 

"  O,  I  have  been  a  bad,  selfish  girl !  I  have  made 
both  you  and  father  very  unhappy;  and  you  have  been 
only  too  kind  to  me  al ways  !  Now  leave  me  alone  — 
go !  I  hope  I  shall  not  trouble  you  much  longer." 

She  brushed  back  her  hair  from  her  large  white 
forehead,  and  smiled  a  strange  and  vacant  smile.  Vir- 
ginia saw  that  her  wish  was  to  die. 


PROMETHEUS    UNBOUND.  43& 

4<  Sister,"  she  said  gently,  "  we  will  all  stay  together,  if 
you  stay.  We  must  not  give  up  this  placo  !  Our  friends 
are  lost  —  we  are  lost  —  if  we  give  it  up  !  Perhaps  we 
can  do  something.  Indeed,  I  think  we  can !  If  we  only 
had  arms  !  Women  have  used  arms  before  now  !  " 

Toby  entered.  "  Dey  ain't  comin'  dis  yer  way,  no- 
how !  Dey's  gwine  off  to  de  norf,  hull  passel  on  'em." 

"  Give  me  that  pistol,  Toby,"  said  Salina.  "  You 
can  use  Cudjo's  axe,  if  we  are  attacked.  Place  it  where 
you  can  reach  it,  and  then  return  to  your  lookout. 
Don't  be  deceived ;  but  warn  us  at  once  if  there  is 
danger." 

"  My  children,"  said  the  old  man,  "  come  near  to 
me  !  I  would  I  could  look  upon  you  once ;  for  I  feel 
that  a  separation  is  near.  Dear  daughters  !  "  — he  took 
a  hand  of  each,  —  "if  I  am  to  leave  you,  grieve  not 
for  me ;  but  love  one  another.  LOVE  ONE  ANOTHER. 
To  you,  Salina,  more  especially,  I  say  this  ;  for  though 
I  know  that  deep  down  in  your  heart  there  is  a  fountain 
of  affection,  you  are  apt  to  repress  your  best  feelings, 
and  to  cherish  uncharitable  thoughts.  For  your  own 
good,  O,  do  not  do  so  any  more  !  Believe  in  God.  Be  a 
child  of  God.  Then  no  misfortune  can  happen  to  you. 
My  children,  there  is  no  great  misfortune,  other  than 
this  —  to  lose  our  faith  in  God,  and  our  love  for  one 
another.  I  do  not  fear  bodily  harm,  for  that  is  compara- 
tively nothing.  For  many  years  I  have  been  blind  ;  yet 
have  I  been  blest  with  sight;  for  night  and  d^y  I  have 


440  PROMETHEUS    UNBOUND. 

seen  God.  And  as  there  is  a  more  precious  sight  than 
that  of  the  eyes,  so  there  is  a  more  precious  life  than  this 
of  the  body.  The  life  of  the  spirit  is  love  and  faith.  Let 
me  know  that  you  have  this,  and  I  shall  no  longer  fear 
for  you.  You  will  be  happy,  wherever  you  are.  Why  is 
it  I  feel  such  trust  that  Virginia  will  be  provided  for  ? 
Salina,  let  your  heart  be  like  hers,  and  I  shall  no  longer 
fear  for  you  !  " 

"  I  wish  it  was  !  I  wish  it  was  !  "  said  Salina,  pouring 
out  the  anguish  of  her  heart  in  those  words.  "  But  I 
cannot  make  it  so.  I  cannot  be  good  !  I  am  —  Salina  ! 
Is  there  fatality  in  a  name  ?  " 

"  I  know  the  infirmity  of  your  natural  disposition,  my 
child.  I  know,  too,  what  circumstances  have  done  to 
embitter  it.  Our  heavenly  Father  will  take  all  that  into 
account.  Yet  there  is  no  one  who  has  not  within  himself 
faults  and  temptations  to  contend  with.  Many  have  far 
greater  than  yours  to  combat,  and  yet  they  conquer  glori- 
ously. I  cannot  say  more.  My  children,  the  hour  has 
come  which  is  to  decide  much  for  us  all.  Remember  my 
legacy  to  you,  —  HAVE  FAITH  AND  LOVE." 

They  knelt  before  him.  He  laid  his  hands  upon  their 
heads,  and  in  a  brief  and  fervent  prayer  blessed  them. 
Both  were  sobbing.  Tears  ran  down  his  cheeks  also ; 
but  his  countenance  was  bright  in  its  uplifted  serenity. 
wearing  a  strange  expression  of  grandeur  and  of  joy. 


THE    COMBAT 


XLIII. 


THE    COMBAT. 


O  M  P ,  rifle  in  h&nd,  bearing  a  torch,  led  the 
patriots  on  their  rapid  return  through  the 
caverns. 

"  Lights  down ! "  he  said,  as  they  approached  the  vi- 
cinity of  the  sink.  "  We  shall  see  them  ;  but  they  must 
not  see  us." 

They  halted  at  the  natural  bridge ;  the  torch  was  ex- 
tinguished, and  the  patriots  placed  their  lanterns  under  a 
rock.  They  then  advanced  as  swiftly  as  possible  in  the 
obscurity,  along  the  bank  of  the  stream.  In  the  hall  of 
the  bats  they  met  Carl,  who  had  seen  their  lights  and 
come  towards  them. 

"  Hurry  !  hurry  !  "  he  said.  "  They  are  coming  down 
the  trees  like  the  devil's  monkeys !  a  whole  carawan 
proke  loose ! " 

Captain  Grudd  commanded  the  patriots;  but  Pomp 
commanded  Captain  Grudd. 

"  Quick,  and  make  no  noise  !     We  have  every  advan- 


442  THE   COMBAT. 

tage  ;  the  darkness  is  on  our  side  —  those  loose  rocks 
will  shelter  us." 

They  advanced  until  within  a  hundred  yards  of  where 
the  shaft  of  daylight  came  down.  There  they  could  dis- 
tinguish, in  the  shining  cleft  under  the  brow  of  the  cav- 
ern, and  above  the  rocky  embankment,  th£  forms  of  their 
assailants.  Some  had  already  gained  a  footing.  Others 
were  descending  the  tree-trunks  in  a  dark  chain,  each 
link  the  body  of  a  rebel. 

"  We  must  stop  that !  "  said  Pomp. 

The  men  were  deployed  forward  rapidly,  and  a  halt 
ordered,  each  choosing  his  position. 

"  Ready !     Aim  !  " 

At  that  moment,  half  a  dozen  men  of  the  attacking 
party  advanced,  feeling  their  way  over  the  rocks  down 
which  Penn  and  his  companions  had  been  seen  to  escape. 
The  leader,  shielding  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  peered  into 
the  gloom  of  the  cavern.  Coming  from  the  light,  he 
could  see  nothing  distinctly.  Suddenly  he  paused :  had 
he  heard  the  words  of  command  whispered  ?  or  was  he 
impressed  by  the  awful  mystery  and  silence  ? 

"  Fire  !  "  said  Captain  Grudd. 

Instantly  a  jagged  line  of  flashes  leaped  across  the 
breast  of  the  darkness,  accompanied  by  a  detonation  truly 
terrible.  Each  gun  with  its  echoes,  in  those  cavernou? 
solitudes,  thundered  like  a  whole  park  of  artillery  :  what, 
then,  was  the  effect  of  the  volley?  The  patriots  were 
themselves  appalled  by  it.  The  mountain  trembled,  and 


THE    COMBAT.  443 

a  gusty  roar  swept  through  its  shuddering  chambers, 
throbbing  and  pulsing  long  after  the  smoke  of  the  dis- 
charge had  cleared  away. 

Pomp  laughed  quietly,  while  Withers  exclaimed,  "  By 
the  Etarnal !  if  I  didn't  fancy  the  hull  ruf  of  the  moun- 
tain had  caved  in ! " 

"  Load  !  "  said  Captain  Grudd,  sternly. 

The  rebels  advancing  over  the  rocks  had  suddenly 
disappeared,  having  either  fallen  in  the  crevices  or 
scrambled  back  up  the  bank  while  hidden  from  view  by 
the  smoke.  The  chain  descending  the  tree  had  broken ; 
those  near  the  ground  leaped  down  or  slid,  while  those 
above  seemed  seized  by  a  wild  impulse  to  climb  back 
with  all  haste  to  the  summit  of  the  wall.  A  few  threw 
away  their  guns,  which  fell  upon  the  heads  of  those  be- 
low. At  the  same  time  those  below  might  have  been 
seen  scampering  to  places  of  shelter  behind  rocks  and 
trees. 

If  ever  panic  were  excusable,  this  surely  was.  Since 
the  patriots  were  terrified  by  their  own  firing,  we  need  not 
wonder  at  the  alarm  of  the  rebels.  Some  had  seen  the 
flashes  sever  the  darkness,  and  their  comrades  fall ;  while 
all  had  felt  the  earthquake  and  the  thundering.  To  those 
at  the  entrance  it  had  seemed  that  these  were  the  jaws 
and  throat  of  a  monster  mountain-huge,  which  at  their 
approach  spat  flame  and  bellowed. 

"  Now  is  our  time  !     Clear  them  out !  "  said  Grudd. 

"  Rush  in  and  finish  them  with  the  bayonet ! "  said 


444  THE   COMBAT. 

Stackridge.  Six  of  the  guns  had  bayonets,  and  his  was 
one  of  them. 

"  Not  yet ! "  said  Pomp.  "  They  will  fire  on  you  from 
above.  We  must  first  attend  to  that.  Shall  I  show  you: 
Then  do  as  I  do  !  " 

Instinctively  they  accepted  his  lead.  Loading  his 
piece,  he  ran  forward  until,  himself  concealed  under  the 
brow  of  the  cavern,  he  could  see  the  rebels  in  the  tree 
and  on  the  cliff. 

"  Once  more !  All  together  ! "  he  said,  taking  aim. 
"  Give  the  word,  captain  1 " 

The  men  knelt  among  the  loosely  tumbled  rocks,  \vhicb 
served  at  once  as  a  breastwork  and  as  rests  for  their  guns. 
The  projecting  roof  of  the  cave  was  over  them ;  through 
the  obscure  opening  they  pointed  their  pieces.  Above 
them,  in  the  full  light,  were  the  frightened  confederates, 
some  on  the  tree,  some  on  the  cliff,  some  leaping  from 
the  tree  to  the  cliff;  while  their  comrades  in  the  sink 
lurked  on  the  side  opposite  that  where  the  patriots  were. 

"  Take  the  cusses  on  the  top  of  the  rocks!  "  said  Stack- 
ridge.  "  The  rest  are  harmless." 

"It's  all  them  in  the  tree  can  do  to  take  keer  of  them- 
selves," added  Withers.  "  Reg'lar  secesh  !  All  they  ax 
is  to  be  let  alone." 

Grudd  gave  the  word.  Flame  from  a  dozen  muzzles 
shot  upwards  from  the  edge  of  the  pit.  When  the  smoke 
rolled  away,  the  cliff  was  cleared.  Not  a  rebel  was  t<? 
be  seen,  except  those  in  the  tree  franticly  scrambling 


THE    COMBAT.  445 

to  get  out,  and  two  others.  One  of  these  had  fallen  on 
the  cliff:  his  head  and  one  arm  hung  horribly  over  the 
brink.  The  other,  in  his  too  eager  haste  to  escape  from 
the  tree,  had  slipped  from  the  limb,  and  been  saved  from 
dashing  to  pieces  on  the  rocks  below  only  by  a  projection 
of  the  Avail,  to  which  he  had  caught,  and  where  he  now 
clung,  a  dozen  feet  from  the  top,  and  far  above  the  river 
that  rolled  black  and  slow  in  its  channel  beneath  the  cliff. 

"  Now  with  your  bayonets  !  "  said  Pomp.  "  This 
way  !  " 

There  were  six  bayonets  before  ;  now  there  were  eight. 

"  That  Carl  is  worth  his  weight  in  gold  !  "  said  the  en- 
thusiastic Stackridge. 

While  the  patriots,  preparing  for  their  second  volley, 
were  getting  positions  among  the  rocks  on  the  left,  Carl 
had  crept  up  the  embankment  in  front,  and  brought  away 
two  muskets  from  two  dead  rebels.  These  were  they  who 
had  fallen  at  the  first  fire.  Both  guns  had  bayonets. 
Pomp  took  one;  Carl  kept  the  other.  Cudjo  with  his 
sword  accompanied  the  charging  party;  Grudd  and  the 
rest  remaining  at  their  post,  ready  to  pick  off  any  rebel 
that  should  appear  on  the  cliff. 

Swift  and  stealthy  as  a  panther,  Pomp  crept  around 
still  farther  to  the  left,  under  the  projecting  wall,  raising 
his  head  cautiously  now  and  then  to  look  for  the  fugitives. 

"  As  I  expected !     They  are  over  there,  afraid  to  follow 
the  stream  into  the  cave,  and  hesitating  whether  to  make 
«,  rush  for  the  tree.     All  ready  ?  " 
38 


446  THE    COtiBAT. 

He  looked  around  on  his  little  force  and  smiled.  In- 
stead of  eight  bayonets,  there  were  now  nine.  Penn  had 
arrived. 

"  All  ready  !  "   answered  Stackridge. 

Pomp  bounded  upon  the  rocks  and  over  them,  with  a 
yell  which  the  rest  took  up  as  they  followed,  charging 
headlong  after  him.  Cudjo,  brandishing  his  sword,  leaped 
and  yelled  with  the  foremost  —  a  figure  fantastically  ter- 
rible. Penn,  with  the  fiery  Stackridge  on  one  side,  and 
his  beloved  Carl  on  the  other,  forgot  that  he  had  ever 
been  a  Quaker,  hating  strife.  Not  that  he  loved  it  now ; 
but,  remembering  that  these  were  the  deadly  foes  of  his 
country,  and  of  those  he  loved,  and  feeling  it  a  righteous 
duty  to  exterminate  them,  he  went  to  the  work,  not  like 
an  apprentice,  but  a  master,  —  without  fear,  self-possessed, 
impetuous,  kindled  with  fierce  excitement. 

The  rebels  in  the  sink,  fifteen  in  number,  had  had  time 
to  rally  from  their  panic ;  and  they  now  seemed  inclined 
to  make  resistance.  They  were  behind  a  natural  breast- 
work, similar  to  that  which  had  sheltered  the  patriots  on 
the  other  side.  They  levelled  their  guns  hastily  and  fired. 
One  of  the  patriots  fell :  it  was  Withers. 

"  Give  it  to  them  !  "  shouted  Pomp. 

"  Every  cussed  scoundrel  of  'em !  "  Stackridge  cried. 

"Kill!  kill!  kill!"  shrieked  Cudjo. 

"  Surrender  !    surrender  !  "  thundered  Penn. 

With  such  cries  they  charged  over  the  rocks,  straight 
at  tho  faces  and  breasts  of  the  confederates.  Some  turned 


THE    COMBAT.  447 

to  fly ;  but  beyond  them  was  the  unknown  darkness  into 
which  the  river  flowed  :  they  recoiled  aghast  from  that. 
A  few  stood  their  ground.  The  bayonet,  which  Penn 
had  first  made  acquaintance  with  when  it  was  thrust  at 
his  own  breast,  he  shoved  through  the  shoulder  of  a  rebel 
whose  clubbed  musket  was  descending  on  Carl's  head. 
Three  inches  of  the  blade  come  out  of  his  back  ;  and, 
bearing  him  downwards  in  his  irresistible  onset,  Penn 
literally  pinned  him  to  the  ground.  Cudjo  slashed  an- 
other hideously  across  the  face  with  the  sword.  Pomp 
took  the  first  prisoner :  it  was  Dan  Pepperill.  The  rest 
soon  followed  Dan's  example,  cried  quarter,  and  threw 
down  their  arms. 

"  Quarter  !  "  gasped  the  wretch  Penn  had  pinned. 

"  You  spoke  too  late  —  I  am  sorry  !  "  said  Penn,  with 
austere  pity,  as,  placing  his  foot  across  the  man's  armpit 
to  hold  him  while  he  pulled,  he  put  forth  his  strength, 
and  drew  out  the  steel.  A  gush  of  blood  followed,  and, 
with  a  groan,  the  soldier  swooned. 

"  It  is  one  of  them  wagabonds  that  gave  you  the  tar 
and  fedders  !  "  said  Carl. 

"  And  assisted  at  my  hanging  afterwards  ! "  added 
Penn,  remembering  the  ghastly  face. 

Thus  retribution  followed  these  men.  Gad  and  Griffin 
he  had  seen  dead.  Was  it  any  satisfaction  for  him  to 
feel  that  he  was  thus  avenged  ?  I  think,  not  much.  The 
devil  of  revenge  had  no  place  in  his  soul ;  and  never  for 
any  personal  wrong  he  had  received  would  he  have  wished 
to  see  bloody  violence  done. 


448  THE    COMBAT. 

The  prisoners  were  disarmed,  and  ordered  to  remain 
where  they  were. 

"  Bring  the  wounded  to  me,"  said  Pomp,  hastening 
back  to  the  spot  where  Withers  had  fallen. 

Stackridge  and  another  were  lifting  the  fallen  patriot 
and  bearing  him  to  the  shelter  of  the  cave.  Pomp 
assisted,  skilfully  and  tenderly.  Then  followed  those 
who  bore  away  the  wounded  prisoners  and  the  guns  that 
had  been  captured.  Pepperill  had  been  ordered  to  help. 
He  and  Carl  carried  the  man  whose  face  Cudjo  had 
slashed.  This  was  the  only  rebel  who  had  fought  obsti- 
nately :  he  had  not  given  up  until  an  arm  was  broken, 
and  he  was  blinded  by  his  own  blood.  Penn  and  Devitt 
brought  up  the  rear  with  the  swooning  soldier.  When 
half  way  over  they  were  fired  upon  by  the  rebels  rallying 
to  the  edge  of  the  cliff.  Grudd  and  his  men  responded 
sharply,  covering  then-  retreat.  Penn  felt  a  bullet  graze 
his  shoulder.  It  made  but  a  slight  flesh  wound  there  ; 
but,  passing  down,  it  entered  the  heart  of  the  wounded 
man,  whose  swoon  became  the  swoon  of  death.  This 
was  the  only  serious  result  of  the  confederate  fire. 

"  I  am  glad  I  did  not  kill  him  !  "  said  Penn,  as  they 
laid  the  corpse  beside  the  stream. 

Then  out  of  the  mask  of  blood  which  covered  the  face 
of  the  stout  fellow  who  had  fought  so  well,  there  issued  a 
Toice  that  spoke,  in  a  strange  tongue,  these  words :  — 

"  Was  hat  man  mir  gethan  ?      Wo  bin  ich,  mutter  f  " 

But  the  words  were  not  strange  to  Carl ;  neither  was 
the  voice  strange. 


THE    COMBAT.  449 

"  Fritz !  Fritz  !  "  he  answered,  in  the  same  language, 
"  is  it  you  ?  " 

"I  am  Fritz  Minnevich ;  that  is  true.  And  you,  I 
think,  are  my  cousin  Carl." 

They  laid  the  wounded  man  near  the  stream,  where 
Pomp  was  examining  Withers's  hurt. 

"  O,  Fritz  !  "  said  Carl,  "  how  came  you  here  ?  " 

"  They  said  the  Yankees  were  coming  to  take  our  farm. 
So  Hans  and  I  enlisted  to  fight.  I  got  in  here  because  I 
was  ordered.  We  do  as  we  are  ordered.  It  was  we  who 
whipped  the  woman.  We  whipped  her  well.  I  hope  my 
good  looks  will  not  be  spoiled  ;  for  that  would  grieve  our 
mother." 

Thus  the  soldier  talked  in  his  native  tongue,  while 
Carl,  in  sorrow  and  silence,  washed  the  blood  from  his 
face.  He  remembered  he  was  his  father's  brother's  son; 
a  good  fellow,  in  his  way  ;  dull,  but  faithful ;  and  he  had 
not  always  treated  him  cruelly.  Indeed,  Carl  thought  not 
of  his  cruelty  now  at  all,  but  only  of  the  good  times  they 
had  had  together,  in  days  when  they  were  friends,  and 
Frau  Minnevich  had  not  taught  her  boys  to  be  as  ill- 
natured  as  herself. 

"  What  for  do  you  do  this,  Carl  ?  "  said  Fritz.  "  There 
is  no  cause  that  you  should  be  kind  to  me.  I  did  you 
some  ill  turns.  You  did  right  to  run  away.  But  our 
father  swears  you  shall  have  your  share  of  the  property  if 
you  ever  come  back  for  it,  and  the  Yankees  do  not 
take  it." 

38* 


450  THE    COMBAT. 

"  It  is  all  lies  they  tell  you  about  the  Yankees  !  "  said 
Carl.  "  O  Pomp  !  this  is  my  cousin  —  see  what  you  can 
do  for  him." 

Pomp  had  been  reluctantly  convinced  that  he  could  do 
nothing  for  Withers  :  his  wound  was  mortal.  And  With- 
ers had  said  to  him,  in  cheerful,  feeble  tones,  "  I  feel 
I'm  about  to  the  eend  of  my  tether.  So  don't  waste  yer 
time  on  me." 

So  Pomp  turned  his  attention  to  the  Minnevich.  But 
Penn  and  Stackridge  remained  with  the  dying  patriot. 

"  Wish  ye  had  a  Union  flag  to  wrap  me  in  when  I'm 
dead,  boys  !  That's  what  I've  fit  fur ;  that's  what  I 
meant  to  die  fur,  if  'twas  so  ordered.  It's  all  right, 
boys !  Jest  look  arter  my  family  a  little,  won't  ye  ? 
And  don't  give  up  old  Tennessee !  " 

These  were  his  last  words. 

Penn  and  Stackridge  rejoined  their  comrades  in  the 
fight. 

"  Shoot  him  !  shoot  him  !  shoot  him  !  "  cried  Cu.ljo,  in 
a  frenzy  of  excitement,  pointing  at  the  rebel  who  had 
fallen  from  the  tree  upon  the  projection  of  the  chasm 
wall.  "  Him  dar  !  Dat  Sile  Ropes  !  " 

"  Ropes  ?  "  said  Penn,  looking  up  through  the  opening. 
44  That  he  !  "  —  raising  his  gun.  "  But  he  can  do  no  harm 
there  ;  and  he  can't  get  out." 

"  Don'  ye  see  ?  Dey's  got  a  rope  to  help  him  wif ! 
Gib  him  a  shot  fust '  0,  gib  him  a  shot !  " 

The  projection  to  which  the  lieutenant  clung  was  a 


THE    COMBAT,  451 

broken  shelf  less  than  half  a  yard  in  breadth.  There  he 
cowered  in  abject  terror  betwixt  two  dangers,  that  of 
falling  if  he  attempted  to  move,  and  that  of  being  picked 
off  if  he  remained  stationary  and  in  sight.  To  avoid 
both,  he  got  upon  his  hands  and  knees,  and  hid  his  face 
in  the  angle  of  the  ledge,  leaving  the  posterior  part  of  his 
person  prominent,  no  doubt  thinking,  like  an  ostrich,  that 
if  his  head  was  in  a  hole,  he  was  safe.  The  very  ludi- 
crousness  of  his  situation  saved  him.  The  patriots  re- 
served him  to  laugh  at,  and  fired  over  him  at  the  rebels 
on  the  cliff.  At  each  shot,  Silas  could  be  seen  to  root 
his  nose  still  more  industriously  into  the  rock.  At 
length,  however,  as  Cudjo  had  declared,  a  rope  was 
brought  and  let  down  to  him. 

"  Take  hold  there ! "  shouted  the  rebels  on  the  cliff. 
Ropes  could  feel  the  cord  dangling  on  his  back.  "  Tie  it 
around  your  waist !  " 

Silas,  without  daring  to  look  up,  put  out  his  hand, 
which  groped  awkwardly  and  blindly  for  the  rope  as  it 
swung  to  and  fro  all  around  it.  Finally,  he  seized  it,  but 
ran  imminent  risk  of  falling  as  he  drew  it  under  his 
body.  At  length  he  seemed  to  have  it  secured ;  but  in 
his  hurry  and  trepidation  he  had  fastened  it  considerably 
nearer  his  hips  than  his  arms.  The  result,  when  the 
rebels  above  began  to  haul,  can  be  imagined.  Hips  and 
heels  were  hoisted,  while  arms  and  head  hung  down, 
causing  him  to  resemble  very  strikingly  a  frog  hooked  on 
for  bait  at  the  end  of  a  fish-line.  The  affrighted  face 


452  THE    COMBAT. 

drawn  out  of  its  hole,  looked  down  ridiculously  hideous 
into  the  rocky  and  bristling  gulf  over  which  he  swung. 

"  Fire  !  "  said  Captain  Grudd. 

The  volley  was  aimed,  not  at  Silas,  but  at  those  who 
were  hauling  him  up.  Cudjo  shrieked  with  frantic  joy, 
expecting  to  see  his  old  enemy  plunge  bead  foremost  among 
the  stones  on  the  bank  of  the  stream.  Such,  no  doubt, 
would  have  been  the  result,  but  for  one  sturdy  and  brave 
fellow  at  the  rope.  The  rest,  struck  either  with  bullets  or 
terror,  fell  back,  loosing  their  hold.  But  this  man  clung 
fast,  imperturbable.  Alone,  slowly,  hand  over  hand,  he 
hauled  and  hauled ;  grim,  unterrified,  faithful.  But  it 
was  a  tedious  and  laborious  task  for  one,  even  the 
stoutest.  The  man  had  but  a  precarious  foothold,  and 
the  rope  rubbsd  hard  on  the  edge  of  the  cliff.  Cudjo 
shrieked  again,  this  time  with  despair  at  seeing  his 
former  overseer  about  to  escape. 

"  That's  a  plucky  fellow  !  said  Stackridge,  with  stern 
admiration  of  the  soldier's  courage.  "  I  like  his  grit ; 
but  he  must  stop  that !  " 

He  reached  for  a  loaded  gun.  He  took  Carl's.  The 
boy  turned  pale,  but  said  never  a  word,  setting  his  lips 
firmly  as  he  looked  up  at  the  cliff.  Silas  was  swinging. 
The  soldier  was  pulling  in  the  rope,  hitch  by  hitch,  over 
the  ledge.  Stackridge  took  deliberate  aim,  and  fired. 

For  a  moment  no  very  surprising  effect  was  percepti- 
ble, only  the  man  stopped  hauling.  Then  he  went 
down  on  one  knee,  paying  out  several  inches  of  the 


THE    COMBAT.  458 

rope,  and  letting  the  suspended  Silas  dip  accordingly. 
It  became  evident  that  he  was  hit ;  he  still  grasped  the 
rope,  but  it  began  to  glide  through  his  hands.  Silas  set 
up  a  howl. 

"  Hold  me  !  hold  me  !  "  —  at  the  same  time  extend- 
ing all  his  fingers  to  grasp  the  rocks. 

The  brave  fellow  made  one  last  effort,  and  took  a  turn 
of  the  rope  about  his  wrist.  It  did  not  slip  through  his 
hands  any  more.  But  soon  he  began  to  slip  —  forward  — 
forward  —  on  both  knees  now  —  his  head  reeling  like 
that  of  a  drunken  man,  and  at  last  pitching  heavily  over 
the  cliff. 

Some  of  the  cowards  who  had  deserted  their  post 
sprang  to  save  him  ;  but  too  late  :  the  man  was  gone. 

It  was  fortunate  for  Silas  that  he  had  been  let  down 
several  feet  thus  gradually.  He  was  near  the  ledge  from 
which  he  had  been  lifted,  and  had  just  time  to  grasp  it 
again  and  crawl  upon  it,  when  the  man  fell,  turning  a 
complete  somerset  over  him,  fearful  to  witness  !  revolving 
slowly  in  his  swift  descent  through  the  air  ;  still  holding 
with  tenacious  grip  the  rope ;  plunging  through  tho 
boughs  like  a  mere  log  tumbled  from  the  cliff,  and 
striking  the  rocks  below  —  dead. 

He  had  taken  the  rope  with  him ;  and  Silas  had 
been  preserved  from  sharing  his  fate  only  by  a  lucky 
accident.  The  knot  at  his  hips  loosened  itself  as  he 
clutched  the  ledge,  and  let  the  coil  fly  off  as  the  man 
shot  down. 


454  THE   COMBAT. 

Not  a  gun  was  fired  :  rebels  and  patriots  seemed 
struck  dumb  with  horror  at  the  brave  fellow's  fate. 
Then  Carl  whispered,  — 

"  That  vas  my  other  cousin  !    That  vas  Hans  !  " 

"  Cudjo  !    Cudjo  !    what  are  you  about  ?  "    cried  Penn. 

The  black  did  not  answer.  Beside  himself  with  ex- 
citement, he  ran  to  the  leaning  tree  and  climbed  it 
like  an  ape.  The  naked  sword  gleamed  among  the 
twigs.  Reaching  the  trunk  of  the  tall  tree  he  ascended 
that  as  nimbly,  never  stopping  until  he  had  reached  the 
upper  limbs.  There  was  one  that  branched  towards  the 
ledge  where  Silas  clung.  At  a  glance  choosing  that, 
Cudjo  ran  out  upon  it,  until  it  bent  beneath  his  weight. 
There  he  tried  in  vain  to  reach  his  ancient  enemy  with 
the  sword ;  the  distance  was  too  great,  even  for  his 
long  arms. 

"  Sile  Ropes  !  ye  ol'  oberseer  !  g'e  know  Cudjo  ?  Me 
Cudjo ! "  he  yelled,  slashing  the  end  of  the  branch  as 
if  it  had  been  his  victim's  flesh.  "  'Member  de  lickins  r 
'Member  my  gal  ye  got  away  ?  Now  ye  git  yer  pay  ! " 

While  he  was  raving  thus,  one  of  the  soldiers  above, 
sheltering  himself  from  the  fire  of  the  patriots  by  lying 
almost  flat  on  the  ground,  levelled  his  gun  at  the  half- 
crazed  negro's  breast,  and  pulled  the  trigger. 

A  flash  —  a  report  —  the  sword  fell,  and  went  clatter- 
ing down  upon  the  rocks.  Cudjo  turned  one  wild  look 
upward,  clapping  his  hand  to  his  breast.  Then,  with  a 
terrible  grimace,  he  cast  his  eyes  down  again  at 


THE   COMBAT.  455 

Ropes,  —  crept  still  farther  out  on  the  branch,  —  and 
leaped. 

Silas  had  his  nose  in  the  angle  of  the  ledge  again,  and 
scarcely  knew  what  had  happened  until  he  felt  the  negro 
alight  on  his  back  and  fling  his  arms  about  him. 

"  Cudjo  shot !  Cudjo  die !  But  you  go  too,  Sile 
Ropes !  " 

As  he  gibbered  forth  these  words,  his  long  hands 
found  the  lieutenant's  throat,  and  tightened  upon  it.  A 
fearfully  quiet  moment  ensued ;  then  living  and  dying 
rolled  together  from  the  ledge,  and  dropped  into  the 
chasm.  They  struck  the  body  of  the  dead  Hans  ;  that 
broke  the  fall ;  and  Cudjo  was  beneath  his  victim. 
Ropes,  stunned  only,  struggled  to  rise ;  but,  held  in 
that  deadly  embrace,  he  only  succeeded  in  rolling  him- 
self down  the  embankment,  Cudjo  accompanying.  The 
stream  flowed  beneath,  black,  with  scarce  a  murmur. 
Silas  neither  saw  nor  heard  it ;  but,  continuing  to  strug- 
gle, and  so  continuing  to  roll,  he  reached  the  verge  of 
the  rocks,  and  fell  with  a  splash  into  the  current. 

Penn  ran  to  the  spot  just  in  time  to  see  the  two 
bodies  disappear  together ;  the  dying  Cudjo  and  the 
drowning  Silas  sinking  as  one,  and  drifting  away  intc 
the  cavernous  darkness  of  the  subterranean  river. 


456      HOW  AUGUSTUS  FINALLl   PROPOSED. 


XLIV. 


HOW  AUGUSTUS  FINALLY  PROPOSED. 


FTER  this  there  was  a  lull;  and  Penn, 
who  had  forgotten  every  thing  else  whilst  the 
conflict  was  raging,  remembered  that  he  had 
seen  Bythewood  at  the  ravine,  and  hastened  to  inform 
Pomp  of  the  circumstance. 

The  death  of  Cudjo  had  plunged  Pomp  into  a  fit  of 
stern,  sad  reverie.  His  surgical  task  performed,  he  stood 
leaning  on  his  rifle,  gazing  abstractedly  at  the  darkly 
gliding  waves,  when  Penn's  communication  roused  him. 

"  Ha  !  "  said  he,  with  a  slight  start.  "  We  must  look 
to  that !  The  danger  here  is  over  for  the  present,  and 
two  or  three  of  us  can  be  spared." 

"  Shall  I  go,  too  ?  "  said  Carl.  "  It  is  time  I  vas  seeing 
to  my  prisoner." 

"  Come,"  said  Pomp.      And  the  three  set  out  to  return. 

Having  but  slight  anticipations  of  trouble  from  the  side 
of  the  ravine,  they  came  suddenly,  wholly  unprepared, 
upon  a  scene  which  filled  them  with  horror  and  amaze- 
ment. 


BOW  AUGUSTUS   FINALLY  PROPOSED.      457 

The  prisoner,  as  we  know,  had  fled.  We  left  him  on 
his  way  back  to  the  cave  with  a  squad  of  men.  Since 
which  time,  this  is  what  had  occurred. 

The  assailants  had  approached  so  stealthily  over  the 
ledges,  below  which  Toby  was  stationed,  looking  intently 
for  them  in  another  direction,  that  he  had  no  suspicions 
of  their  coming  until  they  suddenly  dropped  upon  him  as 
from  the  clouds.  He  had  no  time  to  run  for  his  axe ;  and 
he  had  scarcely  given  the  alarm  when  he  was  overpowered, 
knocked  down,  and  rolled  out  of  the  way  off  the  rocks. 

The  assailants  then,  with  Lysander  at  their  head,  rushed 
to  the  entrance  of  the  cave.  But  there  they  encountered 
unexpected  resistance  :  the  two  sisters  —  Salina  with  the 
pistol,  Virginia  with  the  axe. 

"  Hello  !  Sal !  "  cried  Lysander,  recoiling  into  the  arms 
of  his  men  ;  "  what  the  devil  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  to  kill  you,  or  any  man  that  sets  foot  in  this 
place  !  That  is  what  I  mean  !  " 

There  could  be  no  doubt  about  it :  her  eyes,  her  atti- 
tude, her  whole  form,  from  head  to  foot,  looked  what  she 
said.  She  was  flushed  ;  a  smile  of  wild  and  reckless  scorn 
curved  her  mouth,  and  her  countenance  gleamed  with  a 
wicked  light. 

By  her  side  was  Virginia,  with  the  uplifted  axe,  ex- 
pressing no  less  determination  by  her  posture  and  looks, 
though  she  did  not  speak,  though  there  was  no  smile  on 
her  pale  lips,  and  though  her  features  were  as  white  as 
death. 

39 


458        HOW  AUGUSTUS   FINALLY  PROPOSED. 

"  It's  no  use,  gals !  "  said  Sprowl.  "  Don't  make 
fools  of  yourselves  !  You  won't  be  hurt ;  but  I'm  bound 
to  come  in  !  " 

"  Do  not  attempt  it !  You  have  broken  your  oath  to 
me.  But  I  have  made  an  oath  I  shall  not  break  ! " 

What  that  oath  was  Salina  did  not  say ;  but  Lysander's 
changing  color  betrayed  that  he  guessed  it  pretty  well. 

"  I  don't  care  a  d — n  for  you  !  Virginia,  drop  that 
axe,  and  come  out  here  with  your  father,  and  I  pledge  my 
sacred  honor  that  neither  of  you  shall  receive  the  least 
harm." 

"  Your  sacred  honor  !  "  sneered  Salina. 

But  Virginia  said  nothing.  She  stood  like  a  clothed 
statue;  only  the  eyes  through  Avhich  the  fire  of  the  ex- 
cited spirit  shone  were  not  those  of  a  statue ;  and  the 
advanced  white  arm,  beautiful  and  bare,  from  which  the 
loose  sleeve  fell  as  it  reared  the  axe,  was  of  God's  sculp- 
ture, not  man's. 

She  seemed  not  to  hear  Lysander ;  for  the  promise  of 
safety  for  herself  was  as  nothing  to  her  :  she  felt  that  she 
was  there  to  defend,  with  her  life,  if  needs  were,  the 
friends  whom  he  had  betrayed.  Only  a  holy  and  great 
purpose  like  this  could  have  nerved  that  gentle  nature  for 
such  work,  and  made  those  tender  sinews  firm  as  steel. 

There  was  something  slightly  devilish  in  the  aspect  of 
Salina ;  but  Virginia  was  all  the  angel ;  yet  it  was  the 
angel  roused  to  strife. 

"  Call  off  your  gals,  Mr.  Villars  !  "  said  Sprowl. 


HOW  AUGUSTUS   FINALLY  PROPOSED.      459 

"  Lysander  !  "  said  the  solemn  voice  of  the  old  minister 
from  within,  "  hear  me  !  We  are  but  three  here,  as  you 
see  :  a  blind  and  helpless  old  man  and  two  girls.  Why 
do  you  follow  to  persecute  us  ?  Go  your  way,  and  learn 
to  be  a  man.  The  business  you  are  engaged  in  is  un- 
worthy of  a  man.  My  daughters  do  right  to  defend  this 
place,  which  you,  false  and  ungrateful,  have  betrayed. 
Attempt  nothing  farther  ;  for  we  are  not  afraid  to  die  !  " 

"  Go  in,  boys  !  "  shouted  Lysander,  himself  shrinking 
aside  to  let  the  soldiers  pass. 

Salina  fired  the  pistol  —  not  at  the  soldiers. 

"  She  has  shot  me ! "  said  Lysander,  staggering  back. 
"  Kill  the  fiend  !  kill  her  !  " 

Instantly  two  bayonets  darted  at  her  breast.  One  of 
them  was  struck  down  by  Virginia's  axe,  which  half 
severed  the  soldier's  wrist.  But  before  the  axe  could  rise 
and  descend  again,  the  other  bayonet  had  done  its  work ; 
and  the  soldiers  rushed  in. 

It  was  all  over  in  a  minute.  The  axe  was  seized  and 
wrenched  violently  away.  Toby  lay  senseless  on  the 
rocks  without.  Lysander  was  leaning  dizzily,  clutching 
at  the  ledge,  a  ghastly  whiteness  settling  about  the  gay 
mustache,  and  a  strange  glassiness  dimming  his  eyes. 
The  soldiers  had  possession.  Virginia  was  a  prisoner, 
and  her  father;  but  not  Salina.  There  was  the  body 
which  had  been  hers,  transfixed  by  the  bayonet,  and 
fallen  upon  the  ground  :  that  was  palpable  :  but  who  shall 
capture  the  escaping  soul  ? 


460        HOW  AUGUffT-US   FINALLY  PROPOSED. 

When  Penn  and  his  companions  arrived,  not  a  living 
person  was  there  ;  but  alone,  stretched  upon  the  cold  stone 
floor,  where  the  gray  light  from  the  entrance  fell,  —  pulse- 
less, pallid,  with  pale  hands  crossed  peacefully  on  her 
breast,  hiding  the  wound,  and  features  faintly  smiling  in 
their  stony  calm,  —  lay  the  corpse  of  her  that  was  Salina. 
The  fair  cup  that  had  brimmed  with  the  bitterness  of  life 
was  shattered.  The  soul  that  drank  thereat  had  fled  away 
in  haughtiness  and  scorn. 

Toby,  groaning  on  the  stones  outside,  felt  somebody 
shaking  him,  and  heard  the  voice  of  Carl  asking  how  he 
was. 

"  Dunno' ;  sort  o'  common,"  said  the  old  negro,  trying 
to  rise. 

He  knew  nothing  of  what  had  happened,  except  that  he 
had  been  fallen  upon  and  beaten  down :  for  the  rest,  it 
was  useless  to  question  him :  not  even  Penn's  agonies  of 
doubt  and  fear  could  rouse  his  recollection. 

Lieutenant-colonel  Bythewood  had  committed  the  error 
of  an  officer  green  in  his  profession.  The  cave  surprised, 
and  the  prisoners  taken,  the  men  retired  in  all  haste,  sim- 
ply because  they  had  received  no  orders  to  the  contrary. 
Th'.is  no  advantage  whatever  was  taken  of  the  very  im- 
portant position  which  had  been  gained. 

Leaving  the  dead  behind,  and  carrying  off  the  wounded 
and  the  prisoners,  the  sergeant,  upon  whom  the  command 
devolved  after  his  captain  was  disabled,  lost  no  time  in 
reporting  to  the  lieutenant-colonel. 


HOW  AUGUSTUS   FINALLY  PROPOSED.      461 

Augustus  stood  up  to  receive  the  report  and  the  prison- 
ers, —  extremely  pale,  but  appearing  preternaturally  cour- 
teous and  composed.  He  bowed  very  low  to  the  old  cler- 
gyman (who,  he  forgot,  could  not  witness  and  appreciate 
that  graceful  act  of  homage),  and  expressed  infinite  regret 
that  "  his  duty  had  rendered  it  necessary,"  and  so  forth. 
Then  turning  to  Virginia,  whose  look  was  scarcely  less 
stony  than  that  of  her  dead  sister  in  the  cave,  he  bowed 
low  to  her  also,  but  without  speaking,  and  without  raising 
his  eyes  to  her  face. 

"  Have  this  old  gentleman  carried  to  his  own  house, 
and  see  that  every  attention  is  paid  to  him." 

"  And  my  daughter  ?  "  said  the  blind  old  man,  meekly. 

"  She  shall  follow  you.     I  will  myself  accompany  her." 

"  And  my  dead  child  up  yonder  ?  " 

"  She  shall  be  brought  to  you  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment." 

"  And  my  faithful  servant  ?  " 

"  He  shall  be  cared  for." 

"  Thank  you."  And  Mr.  Villars  bowed  his  white  head 
upon  his  breast. 

"  Take  the  captain  immediately  to  the  hospital !  And 
you  fellow  with  the  hacked  wrist,  go  with  him." 

The  number  of  men  required  to  execute  these  orders 
(since  both  the  old  clergyman  and  the  wounded  captain  had 
to  be  carried)  left  Augustus  almost  alone  with  Virginia. 
Having  previously  sent  off  all  his  available  force  to  Ropes 
at  the  sink,  in  answer  to  a  pressing  call  for  ree'nforcements, 


462      HOW  AUGUSTUS    FINALLY   PROPOSED, 

he  had  now  only  the  sergeant  and  two  men  at  his  beck. 
But  perhaps  this  was  as  he  wished  it  to  be.  He  ap- 
proached Virginia,  and,  bowing  formally,  still  without 
speaking,  offered  her  his  arm. 

"  Thank  you.  I  can  -walk  without  assistance."  Like 
marble  still,  but  with  the  same  wild  fire  in  her  eyes. 
"  The  only  favor  I  ask  of  you  is  to  be  permitted  to  leave 
you." 

Bythewood  made  a  motion  to  the  sergeant,  who  re- 
moved his  men  farther  off. 

"  I  wish  to  have  a  few  words  of  conversation  with  you, 
Miss  Villars.  I  beg  you  to  be  seated  here  in  the  shade." 

Virginia  remained  standing,  regarding  him  with  features 
pale  and  firm  as  when  she  held  the  axe.  It  was  evident 
to  her  that  here  was  another  struggle  before  her,  scarcely 
less  to  be  dreaded  than  the  first.  Augustus  looked  at 
her,  and  smiled  pallidly. 

"  If  eyes  could  kill,  Miss  Villars,  I  think  yours  would 
kiU  me !  " 

"  If  polite  cruelty  can  kill,  YOU  HAVE  killed  my  sister  !  " 

"  O,  I  beg  your  pardon,  dear  Miss  Villars,  but  it  was 
not  I !  " 

"  I  beg  no  pardon,  but  I  say  it  WAS  you !  And  now 
you  will  murder  my  father  —  perhaps  me." 

"  O,  my  excellent  young  lady,  how  you  have  misunder- 
stood me  !  By  Heaven,  I  swear  !  "  —  his  voice  shook  with 
sincere  emotion,  —  "  if  I  have  committed  a  fault,  it  has 
been  for  the  love  of  you  !  Such  faults  surely  may  be 


HOW  AUGUSTUS   FINALLY  PROPOSED        463 

pardoned.  Virginia  !  will  you  accept  my  life  as  an  atone- 
ment for  all  I  have  done  amiss  ?  You  shall  bear  my 
name,  possess  my  wealth,  and,  if  you  do  not  like  the  cause 
I  am  engaged  in,  I  will  throw  up  my  commission  to-mor- 
row. I  will  take  you  to  France  —  Italy  —  Switzerland  — 
wherever  you  wish  to  go.  Nor  do  I  forget  your  father. 
Whatever  you  ask  for  him  shall  be  granted.  I  have 
money  —  influence  —  position  —  every  thing  that  can 
make  you  happy." 

There  was  a  minute's  pause,  the  intense  glances  of 
the  girl  piercing  through  and  through  that  pale,  polite 
mask  to  his  soul.  A  selfish,  chivalrous  man ;  not  a 
great  villain,  by  any  means ;  moved  by  a  genuine,  eager, 
unscrupulous  passion  for  her  —  sincere  at  least  in  that ; 
one  who  might  be  influenced  to  good,  and  made  a  most 
convenient  and  devoted  husband  :  this  she  saw. 

"  Well,  what  more  ?  " 

"  What  more  ?  Ah,  you  are  thinking  of  your  friends  — • 
I  should  say,  of  your  friend !  It  is  natural.  I  have  no  ill 
will  against  him.  Whatever  you  ask  for  him  shall  be 
granted.  At  a  word  from  me,  the  fighting  up  there 
ceases ;  and  he  and  the  rest  shall  be  permitted  to  go 
wherever  they  choose,  unharmed." 

"  Well,  and  if  I  reject  your  generous  offer  ?  " 

Augustus  smiled  as  he  answered,  with  a  hard,  inexora- 
ble purpose  in  his  tones,  — 

"  Then,  much  as  I  love  you,  I  can  do  nothing ! " 

"  Nothing  for  my  father  ?  " 


464      HOW  AUGUSTUS   FINALLY  PROPOSED. 

«  Nothing  !  " 
•  *'  Nor  for  me  ?  " 

"  Not  even  for  you  !  " 

"  Why,  then,  God  pity  us  all!  "  said  Virginia,  calmly. 

"  Truly  you  may  say,  God  pity  you  !  For  do  you  kno\r 
what  will  happen  ?  Your  father  will  die  in  prison  :  you 
will  never  see  him  again.  Your  friends  will  be  massacred 
to  a  man.  I  will  be  frank  with  you  :  to  a  man  they  will 
be  given  to  the  sword.  They  are  but  a  dozen ;  we  are 
fifty  —  a  hundred  —  a  thousand,  if  necessary.  The  sink 
has  already  been  taken,  and  a  force  is  on  its  way  to  occupy 
this  end  of  the  cave.  If  your  friends  hold  out,  they  will 
be  starved.  If  they  fight,  they  will  be  bayoneted  and 
shot.  If  they  surrender,  every  living  man  of  them  shall 
be  hung.  There  is  no  help  for  them.  Lincoln's  army, 
that  has  been  coming  so  long,  is  a  chimera ;  it  will  never 
come.  The  power  is  all  in  our  hands  ;  and  not  even  God 
can  help  them.  That  sounds  blasphemous,  I  know  ;  but 
it  is  true.  They  are  doomed.  But  I  can  save  them  — 
and  you  can  save  them." 

"  And  what  is  to  become  of  me  ?  "  asked  Virginia, 
calmly  as  before. 

"  Your  future  is  entirely  in  your  own  hands.     On  the 

one  side,  what  I  have   promised.     On  the   other " 

Augustus   thought  he  heard   a   crackling   of  sticks,  and 
looked  around. 

"On  the  other," — Virginia  took  up  the  unfinished 
speech,  —  "the  fate  of  a  friendless,  fatherless,  Union- 


HOW  AUGUSTUS   FINALLY  PROPOSED.      465 

loving  woman  in  this  chivalrous  south  !  I  know  how  you 
treat  such  women.  I  know  what  awaits  me  on  that  side. 
And  I  accept  it.  My  friends  can  die.  My  father  can  die ; 
and  I  can.  All  this  I  accept ;  all  the  rest,  you  and  your 
offers,  I  reject.  I  would  not  be  your  wife  to  save  the 
world.  Because  I  not  only  do  not  love  you,  but  because 
I  detest  you.  You  have  my  answer." 

With  swelling  breast  and  set  teeth  Augustus  kept  his 
eyes  upon  her  for  full  a  minute,  then  replied,  in  a  low 
voice  shaken  by  passion,  — 

"  I  hoped  your  decision  would  be  different.  But  it  is 
spoken.  I  cannot  hope  to  change  it  ?  " 

"  Can  you  change  these  rocks  under  our  feet  with  empty 
words  ?  "  she  said,  with  a  white  smile. 

"  All  is  over,  then!  Without  cause  you  hate  me,  Miss 
Villars.  Hitherto,  in  all  that  has  happened  to  you  and 
your  friends,  I  have  been  blameless.  If  in  the  future  I 
am  not  so,  remember  it  is  your  own  fault." 

Then  the  fire  flashed  into  Virginia's  cheeks,  and  indig- 
nation rang  in  her  tones  as  she  denounced  the  falsehood. 

"  Hitherto,  in  the  wrong  that  has  happened  to  me  and 
my  friends,  you  have  XOT  been  blameless  !  In  the  future 
you  cannot  do  more  to  injure  us  than  you  have  already 
done,  or  meant  to  do.  Look  at  me,  and  listen  while  1 
prove  what  I  say." 

Again  there  was  a  slight  noise  in  the  thicket  behind 
them,  and  he  would  have  been  glad  to  make  that  an  ex- 
cuse for  leaving  her  a  moment ;  but  her  spirit  held  him. 


466     now  AUGUSTUS  FINALLY  PROPOSED. 

"  I  listen,"  he  said,  inwardly  quaking  at  he  knew  not 
what. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  night  my  father  was  arrested  ?  " 

"  I  do." 

"  And  how  you  that  day  took  a  journey  to  be  away 
from  us  in  our  trouble  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  took  a  short  journey  that  day,  but  —  ''  his 
eyes  flickering  with  the  uneasiness  of  guilt. 

"  And  do  you  remember  a  conversation  you  had  with 
Lysander  under  a  bridge  ?  " 

His  face  suddenly  flushed  purple.  "  The  villain  has 
betrayed  me !  ''  he  thought.  Then  he  stammered,  "  I 
hope  you  have  not  been  listening  to  any  of  that  fellow's 
slanders !  " 

"  You  talked  with  Lysander  under  the  bridge.  Your 
conversation  was  heard,  every  word  of  it,  by  a  third  person, 
who  lay  concealed  under  the  planks,  behind  you." 

"  A  villanous  spy  !  "  articulated  Augustus. 

"  No  spy  — but  the  man  you  two  were  at  that  moment 
seeking  to  kill :  PEXN  HAPGOOD,  THE  SCHOOLMASTER." 

It  was  a  blow.  Poor  Bythewood,  too  luxurious  and 
inert  to  be  a  great  villain,  was  only  a  weak  one ;  and, 
wounded  in  his  most  sensitive  point,  his  pride,  he  writhed 
for  a  space  with  unutterable  chagrin  and  rage.  Then  he 
recovered  himself.  He  had  heard  the  worst;  and  now 
there  was  nothing  left  for  him  but  to  cast  down  and  tram- 
ple with  his  feet  (so  to  speak)  the  mask  that  had  been 
torn  from  his  face. 


HOW  AUGUSTUS   FINALLY  PROPOSED.      467 

"  Very  well !  You  think  you  know  me,  then  !  " —  He 
seized  her  wrists.  —  "  Now  hear  me !  I  am  not  to  be 
spurned  like  a  dog,  even  by  the  foot  of  the  woman  I  love. 
You  reject,  despise,  insult  me.  As  for  me,  I  say  this  : 
all  shall  be  as  I  have  pronounced.  Your  father,  your 
lover,  —  not  Fate  itself  shall  intervene  to  save  them ! 
And  as  for  you " 

Again  he  heard  a  rustling  by  the  ravine ;  this  time  so 
near  that  it  startled  him.  He  looked  quickly  around,  and 
saw,  slowly  peering  through  the  bushes,  a  dark  human 
face.  Had  it  been  the  terrible  front  of  the  Fate  he  had 
just  defied,  the  soul  of  Augustus  Bythewood  could  not 
have  shrunk  with  a  more  sudden  and  appalling  fear.  It 
was  the  face  of  Pomp. 


468     MASTER   AND    SLAVE    CHANGE   PLACES. 


XLV. 


MASTER  AND    SLAVE   CHANGE    PLACES. 


H  E  sergeant  and  his  men  were  several  rods 
distant :  the  bush  through  which  that  men- 
acing visage  peered  was  within  as  many  feet. 
Augustus  reached  for  his  revolver. 

"  Make  a  single  move  —  speak  a  single  word  —  and 
you  are  food  for  the  buzzards  !  "  came  a  whisper  from 
the  bush  that  well  might  chill  his  blood.  "  You  know 
this  rifle  —  and  you  know  me  !  "  And  in  the  negro's 
face  shone  a  persuasive  glitter  of  the  old,  untamable, 
torrid  ferocity  of  his  tribe  —  not  pleasing  to  Augustus. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  Give  your  revolver  to  that  girl  —  instantly  !  " 

"  I  have  men  within  call ! " 

"  So  have  I!" 

Through  the  bush,  advancing  noiselessly,  came  the 
straight  steel  barrel  of  a  rifle  that  had  never  missed  fire 
but  once  :  that  was  when  it  had  been  aimed  by  Augustus 
at  the  head  of  Po-.np.  Now  it  was  aimed  by  Pomp  at 


MASTER   AND    SLAVE   CHANGE  PLACES.      469 

the  head  of  Augustus ;  and  it  was  hardly  to  be  expected 
that  it  would  be  so  obliging  as  to  remember  that  one  fault, 
and,  for  the  sake  of  fairness,  repeat  it,  now  that  positions 
were  reversed.  Bythewood  hesitated,  in  mortal  fear. 

"  Obey  me  !    I  shall  not  speak  again  !  " 

And  there  was  heard  in  the  bush  another  slight  noise, 
too  short,  quick,  and  clicking,  to  be  the  crackle  of  a 
twig.  Neither  was  that  pleasing  to  the  mind  of  Augustus. 
He  turned,  and  with  trembling  hand  made  Virginia  a 
present  of  the  revolver. 

"Do  you  know  how  to  use  it?"  Pomp  asked.  She 
nodded,  breathless.  "  And  you  will  use  it  if  necessary  r " 
She  nodded  again,  and  held  the  weapon  prepared. 
"  Now," —  to  Bythewood,  —  "  send  those  men  away." 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  do:" 

"  I  mean  to  spare  their  lives  and  yours,  if  you  obey 
me.  To  kill  you  without  much  delay  if  you  do  not." 

"  If  you  shoot," — Bythewood  was  beginning  to  regain 
his  dignity,  —  "  they  will  rush  to  the  spot  before  you 
can  escape,  and  avenge  me  well ! " 

A  superb,  masterful  smile  mounted  to  the  ebon  visage, 
and  the  answer  came  from  the  bush,  — 

"  Look  where  the  bowlder  lies,  up  there  by  the  ravine. 
You  will  see  a  twinkle  of  steel  among  the  leaves.  There 
are  guns  aimed  at  your  men.  You  understand." 

Perhaps  Augustus  did  not  distinguish  the  guns  ;  but 
he  understood.  At  a  signal,  his  men  would  be  shot 
down. 

40 


470      MASTER   AND    SLAVE    CHANGE    PLACES. 

"  I  would  prefer  not  to  shed  blood.  So  decide  and 
that  quickly  !  "  said  Pomp. 

"  And  if  I  comply  ?  " 

"  Comply  readily  with  all  I  shall  demand  of  you,  and 
not  a  hair  of  your  head  shall  be  harmed.  Now  I  count 
ten.  At  the  word  ten,  I  send  a  bullet  through  your  heart 
if  those  men  are  still  there."  He  commenced,  like  one 

telling  the  strokes  of  a  tolling  bell :  "  One two 

three four five " 

"  Sergeant,"  called  Augustus,  "  take  your  men  and 
report  to  Lieutenant  Ropes  at  the  sink." 

"  A  fine  time  to  be  taken  up  with  a  love  affair ! " 
growled  the  sergeant,  as  he  obeyed. 

"  Now  what  :  "  said  Bythewood,  under  an  air  of  bra- 
vado concealing  the  despair  of  his  heart. 

"  Come  !  "  said  Pomp,  with  savage  impatience,  —  for 
he  knew  well  that,  if  Bythewood  had  not  yet  learned  of 
Ropes' s  death,  messengers  must  be  on  the  way  to  him, 
and  therefore  not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost.  He  opened 
the  bushes.  Augustus  crept  into  them :  Virginia  followed. 
But  then  suddenly  the  negro  seemed  to  change  his  plans, 
the  spirit  and  firmness  of  the  girl  inspiring  him  with  a 
fresh  idea. 

"  Miss  Villars,  we  are  going  to  the  cave.  Look  down 
the  ravine  there  ;  —  you  see  this  path  is  rough." 

"  O,  I  can  go  anywhere,  you  know ! " 

"  But  haste  is  necessary.  You  shall  return  the  way 
you  came.  Take  this  man  with  you.  If  you  are  seen 


MASTER   AND    SLAVE    CHANGE   PLACES.     471 

by  his  soldiers,  they  will  think  all  is  well.  Make  him 
go  before.  Shoot  him  if  he  turns  his  head.  Dare  you  ?  " 

"  I  will !  "  said  Virginia. 

"  Keep  near  the  ravine.  My  rifle  will  be  there.  If 
you  have  any  difficulty,  I  will  end  it.  Now  march !  " 

—  thrusting  Bythewood  out  of  the  thicket.  —  "  Straight 
on  !  —  Carry  your  pistol  cocked,  young  lady  !  " 

Bitterly  then  did  the  noble  Augustus  repent  him  of 
having  sent  his  guard  away  :  "I  ought  to  have  died 
first !  "  But  it  was  too  late  to  recall  them  ;  and  there 
was  no  way  left  him  but  to  yield  —  or  appear  to  yield 

—  implicit  obedience. 

What  a  situation  for  a  son  of  the  chivalrous  south ! 
He  had  reviled  Lysander  for  having  been  made  prisoner 
by  a  boy ;  and  here  was  he,  the  haughty,  the  proud,  the 
ambitious,  overawed  by  a  negro's  threats,  and  carried 
away  captive  by  a  girl !  However,  he  had  a  hope  —  a 
desperate  one,  indeed.  He  would  watch  for  an  opportu- 
nity, wheel  suddenly  upon  Virginia,  sci/e  the  pistol,  and 
escape,  —  risking  a  shot  from  it,  which  he  knew  she  was 
firmly  determined  to  deliver  in  case  of  need  (for  had  he 
not  seen  the  soldier's  gashed  wrist  ?)  —  and  risking  also 
(what  was  more  serious  still)  a  shot  from  the  rifle  in  the 
ravine. 

But  when  they  came  to  the  bowlder,  there  the  resolu- 
tion he  had  taken  fell  back  leaden  and  dead  upon  his 
heart.  He  had,  on  reflection,  concluded  that  the  twinkle 
of  guns  in  the  leaves  there  was  but  a  fiction  of  the  wily 


472     MASTER   AND    SLAVE    CHANGE   PLACES. 

African  brain.  As  he  passed,  however,  he  perceived  two 
guns  peeping  through.  He  knew  not  what  exultant  hearts 
were  behind  them,  —  what  eager  eyes  beneath  the  boughs 
were  watching  him,  led  thus  tamely  into  captivity  ;  but  he 
was  impressed  with  a  wholesome  respect  for  them,  and 
from  that  moment  thought  no  more  of  escape. 

As  Virginia  approached  the  cave  with  her  prisoner,  the 
two  guns,  having  followed  them  closely  all  the  way,  came 
up  out  of  the  ravine.  They  were  accompanied  by  Penn 
and  Carl.  In  the  gladness  of  that  sight  Virginia  almost 
forgot  her  dead  sister  and  her  captive  father.  Those 
two  dear  familiar  faces  beamed  upun  her  with  joy  and 
triumph.  But  there  was  one  who  was  not  so  glad.  This 
Quaker  schoolmaster,  turned  fighting  man,  was  the  last 
person  Augustus  (who  was  unpleasantly  reminded  of  the 
conversation  under  the  bridge)  would  have  wished  to  see 
under  such  embarrassing  circumstances. 

In  the  cave  was  Toby,  wailing  over  the  dead  body  of 
Salina.  But  at  sight  of  the  living  sister  he  rose  up  and 
was  comforted. 

Pomp  had  remained  to  cover  the  retreat.  When  all 
were  safely  arrived,  he  came  bounding  into  the  cave, 
jubilant.  His  bold  and  sagacious  plans  were  thus  far 
successful ;  and  it  only  remained  to  carry  them  out  with 
the  same  inexorable  energy. 

"  Sit  here."  Augustus  took  one  of  the  giant's  stools. 
"  I  have  a  few  words  to  say  to  this  man  :  in  the  mean 
while,  one  of  you"  — turning  to  Penn  and  Carl —  "  has- 


MASTER   AND    SLAVE    CHANGE   PLACES.     473 

ten  to  the  sink,  and  ask  Stackridge  to  send  me  as  many 
men  as  he  can  spare.  Bring  a  couple  of  the  prisoners 
• — we  shall  need  them." 

"  I'll  go  !  "   Carl  cried  with  alacrity. 

"  And,"  added  Pomp,  "  if  there  are  any  wounded 
Aeeding  my  assistance,  have  them  brought  here.  I  shall 
not,  probably,  be  able  to  go  to  them." 

While  he  was  giving  these  directions,  with  the  air  of 
one  who  felt  that  he  had  a  momentous  task  before  him, 
Bythewood  sat  on  the  rock,  his  head  heavy  and  hot,  his 
feet  like  clods  of  ice,  and  his  heart  collapsing  with  in- 
tolerable suspense.  The  gloom  of  the  cave,  and  the 
strangeness  of  all  things  in  it ;  the  sight  of  the  corpse 
near  the  entrance,  —  of  Toby,  at  Virginia's  suggestion, 
wiping  up  the  pools  of  blood,  —  Virginia  herself  per- 
fectly calm ;  Penn  carefully  untying  and  straightening 
the  pieces  of  rope  that  had  served  to  bind  Lysander,  — 
all  this  impressed  him  powerfully. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  he,  "I  am  to  be  treated  as  a 
prisoner  of  war." 

Pomp  smiled.  "  Answer  me  a  question.  If  you  had 
caught  me,  would  you  have  treated  me  as  a  prisoner  of 
war  ?  — Yes  or  no  ;  we  have  no  time  for  parley." 

"  No,"  said  Augustus,  frankly. 

"  Very  well !    I  have  caught  you  !  " 

Fearfully  significant  words  to  the  prisoner,  who  re- 
membered all  his  injustice  to  this  man,  and  the  tortures 
he  had  prepared  for  him  when  he  should  be  taken! 
40* 


474     MASTER   AND    SLAVE    CHANGE   PLACES, 

But  he  had  not  been  taken.  On  the  contrary,  he,  the 
slave,  could  stand  there,  calm  and  smiling,  before  him, 
the  master,  and  say,  with  peculiar  and  compressed  em- 
phasis, "  Very  well  !  I  have  caught  yoit,  /" 

"  You  promised  that  not  a  hair  of  my  head  should  be 
injured." 

"  The  hair  of  your  head  is  not  the  flesh  of  your  body. 
No,  I  will  not  injure  the  hair  !  "  —  Pomp  waited  for  his 
prisoner  to  take  in  all  the  horrible  suggestiveness  of  this 
equivocation;  then  resumed.  "Is  not  that  what  you 
would  have  said  to  me  if  you  had  found  me  in  your 
power  after  making  me  such  a  promise  ?  The  black 
man  has  no  rights  which  the  white  man  is  bound  to  re- 
spect !  The  most  solemn  pledges  made  by  one  of  your 
race  to  one  of  mine  are  to  be  heeded  only  so  long  as 
suits  your  convenience.  Did  you  not  promise  your  dying 
brother  in  your  presence  to  give  me  my  freedom? 
Answer,  —  yes  or  no." 

"  Yes,"  faltered  Augustus. 

"  And  did  you  give  it  me  ?  " 

"  No."  And  Augustus  felt  that  out  of  his  own  mouth 
he  was  condemned. 

"  Well,  I  shall  keep  my  promise  better  than  you  kept 
yours.  Comply  with  all  I  demand  of  you  (this  is  what 
I  said),  and  no  part  of  you,  neither  flesh  nor  hair,  shall 
be  harmed." 

"  What  do  you  demand  of  me  ?  " 

"  This.     Here  are  pen  and  ink.     Write  as  I  dictate," 

"  What  ?  " 


MASTER    AND    SLAVE    CHANGE    PLACES.     475 

"  An  order  to  have  the  fighting  on  your  side  discon- 
tinued, and  your  forces  withdrawn." 

Augustus  hesitated  to  take  the  pen. 

"  I  have  no  words  to  waste.  If  you  do  not  comply 
readily  with  what  I  require,  it  is  no  object  for  me  that 
you  should  comply  at  all." 

Penn  came  and  stood  by  Pomp,  looking  calm  and  de- 
termined as  he.  Virginia  came  also,  and  looked  upon 
the  prisoner,  without  a  smile,  without  a  frown,  but 
strangely  serious  and  still.  These  were  the  three  against 
whom  he  had  sinned  in  the  days  of  his  power  and  pride ; 
and  now  his  shame  was  bare  before  them.  He  took  the 
quill,  bit  the  feather-end  of  it  in  supreme  perplexity  of 
soul,  then  wrote. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Pomp,  reading  the  order.  "  But 
you  have  forgotten  to  sign  it."  Augustus  signed.  '-Now 
write  again.  A  letter  to  your  colonel.  Mr.  Hapgood, 
please  dictate  the  terms." 

Penn  understood  the  whole  scheme ;  he  had  consulted 
with  Virginia,  and  he  was  prepared. 

"  A  safe  conduct  for  Mr.  Villars,  his  daughter  and  ser- 
vants, beyond  the  confederate  lines.  This  is  all  I  have  to 
insist  upon." 

"  I,"  said  Pomp,  "  ask  more.  The  man  who  betrayed 
us  must  be  sent  here." 

"  If  you  mean  Sprowl,"  said  Bytliewood,  "  his  wife 
has  no  doubt  saved  the  trouble." 

"  Not  Sprowl,  but  DZSLOW." 


476      MASTER   AXD    SLATE    CHAXQE    PLACES. 

Bythewood  was  terrified.  Pomp  had  spoken  with  the 
positiveness  of  clear  knowledge  and  unalterable  determi- 
nation. But  how  was  it  possible  to  comply  with  his 
demand  ?  Deslow  had  b^en  promised  not  only  pardon, 
but  protection  from  the  very  men  he  betrayed  !  There- 
fore he  could  not  be  given  up  to  them  without  the  most 
cowardly  and  shameful  perfidy. 

"  I  have  no  influence  whatever  with  the  military  au- 
thorities," the  prisoner  said,  after  taking  ample  time  for 
consideration. 

"  You  forget  what  you  boasted  to  Sprowl,  under  the 
bridge,"  said  Penn. 

"  You  forget  what  you  just  now  boasted  to  me,"  said 
Virginia. 

"  Call  it  boasting,''  said  Bythewood,  doggedly.  "  Ab- 
solutely, I  have  not  the  power  to  effect  what  you  require." 

"  It  is  your  misfortune,  then,"  said  Pomp.  "  To  have 
boasted  so,  and  now  to  fail  to  perform,  will  simply  cost 
you  your  life.  Will  you  write  ?  or  not  ?  " 

The  prisoner  remained  sullen,  abject,  silent,  for  some 
seconds.  Then,  with  a  deep  breath  which  shook  all  his 
frame,  and  an  expression  of  the  most  agonizing  despair 
on  his  face,  he  took  the  pen. 

"  I  will  write ;  but  I  assure  you  it  will  do  no  good." 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  you,"  was  the  grim  response. 

Mechanically  and  briefly  Bythewood  drew  up  a  paper, 
signed  his  name,  and  shoved  it  across  the  table. 

"  Does  that  suit  you  ?  " 

Pomp  did  not  offer  to  take  it. 


MASTER   AXD    SLAVE    CHANGE   PLACES.     477 

"If  it  suits  you,  well.  I  shall  not  read  it.  It  is  not 
the  letter  that  interests  us ;  it  is  the  result." 

Eythewood  suddenly  drew  back  the  paper,  pondered  its 
contents  a  moment,  and  cast  it  into  the  fire. 

"  I  think  I  had  better  write  another." 

"  I  think  so  too.  I  fear  you  have  not  done  what  you 
might  to  impress  upon  the  colonel's  mind  the  importance 
of  these  simple  terms  —  a  safe  conduct  for  Mr.  Villars 
and  family,  the  troops  withdrawn  entirely  from  the 
mountains,  and  Deslow  delivered  here  to-night.  This  is 
plain  enough ;  and  you  see  the  rest  of  us  ask  nothing  for 
ourselves.  I  advise  you  to  write  freely.  Open  your  mind 
to  your  friend.  And  beware,"  —  Pomp  perceived  by  a 
strange  expression  which  had  come  into  the  prisoner's 
face  that  this  counsel  was  necessary,  —  "  beware  that  he 
does  not  misunderstand  you,  and  send  a  force  to  rescue 
you  from  our  hands.  Tf  such  a  thing  is  attempted,  this 
cave  will  be  found  barricaded.  With  what,  you  wonder  ? 
With  those  stones  ?  With  your  dead  body,  my  friend  !  " 

After  that  hint,  it  was  evident  Augustus  did  not  choose 
to  write  what  had  first  entered  his  mind  on  learning  that 
his  address  to  the  colonel  was  not  to  be  examined.  Penn 
handed  him  a  fresh  sheet,  and  he  filled  it  —  a  long  and  con- 
fidential letter,  of  which  we  regret  that  no  copy  now  exists. 

Before  it  was  finished,  Carl  returned,  accompanied  by 
four  of  the  patriots  and  two  of  the  prisoners.  One  of 
these  last  was  Pepperill.  He  was  immediately  paroled, 
and  sent  off  to  the  sink  with  the  order  that  had  been 
previously  written.  The  letter  completed,  it  was  folded, 


478      MASTER   AND    SLAVE    CHANGE   PLACES. 

sealed,  and  despatched  by  the  other  prisoner  to  Colonel 
Derring's  head-quarters. 

"  Do  you  believe  Deslow  will  be  delivered  up  ? "  said 
Stackridge,  in  consultation  with  Penn  in  a  corner  of  the  cave ; 
the  farmer's  gray  eye  gleaming  with  anticipated  vengeance. 

"  I  believe  the  confederate  authorities,  as  a  general 
thing,  are  capable  of  any  meanness.  Their  policy  is 
fraud,  their  whole  system  is  one  of  injustice  and  selfish- 
ness. If  Derring,  who  is  Bythewood's  devoted  friend, 
can  find  means  to  give  up  the  traitor  without  too  gross 
an  exposure  of  his  perfidy,  he  will  do  it.  But  I  regret 
that  Pomp  insisted  on  that  hard  condition.  He  was  de- 
termined, and  it  was  useless  to  reason  with  him." 

"  And  he  is  right !  "  said  Stackridge.  "  Deslow,  if 
guilty,  must  pay  for  this  day's  work ! " 

"  There  is  no  doubt  of  his  guilt.  Pepperill  knew  of  it 
—  he  whispered  it  to  Pomp  at  the  sink." 

"  Then  Deslow  dies  the  death !  He  Avas  sworn  to  us ! 
He  was  sworn  to  Pomp  ;  and  Pomp  had  saved  his  life ! 
The  blood  of  Withers,  my  best  friend "  The  farm- 
er's voice  was  lost  in  a  throe  of  rage  and  grief. 

"  And  the  blood  of  Cudjo,  whom  Pomp  loved  ! "  said 
Penn.  "I  feel  all  you  feel — all  Pomp  feels.  But  for 
me,  I  would  leave  vengeance  with  the  Lord." 

"  So  Avould  I,"  said  Pomp,  standing  behind  him,  com- 
posed and  grand.  "  And  I  would  be  the  Lord's  instru- 
ment, when  called.  I  am  called.  Deslow  comes  to  me, 
or  I  go  to  him." 

"  Then  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  his  soul !  " 


THE    TRAITOU. 


479 


XLVI. 


THE    TRAITOR. 


H  E  news  of  the  disaster  at  the  sink,  and 
of  the  loss  of  prisoners,  had  reached  Colonel 
Derring,  and  he  was  preparing  to  forward 
reinforcements,  when  Bythewood's  letter  arrived. 

Of  the  colonel's  reflections  on  the  receipt  of  that  sin- 
gular missive  little  is  known.  He  was  unwontedly  cross 
and  abstracted  for  an  hour.  At  the  end  of  that  time  he 
asked  for  the  renegade  Deslow. 

At  the  end  of  another  hour  Deslow  had  heen  found  and 
brought  to  head-quarters.  The  colonel,  having  now  quite 
recovered  his  equanimity  of  temper,  received  him  with 
the  most  flattering  attentions. 

"  You  have  done  an  honorable  and  patriotic  work,  Mr. 
D^slow.  Your  friends  are  coming  to  terms.  Bythewnod  is 
at  this  moment  engaged  in  an  amicable  conference  with 
th~m.  Your  example  has  had  a  most  salutary  effect. 
They  all  desire  to  give  themselves  up  on  similar  terms. 
But  they  will  not  believe  as  yet  that  you  have  been  par- 
doned and  received  into  favor." 


180  THE    TEAITOB. 

The  dark  brow  of  the  traitor  brightened. 

"  And  they  have  no  suspicions  ?  " 

"  None  whatever.  They  do  not  imagine  you  had  any- 
thing  to  do  with  the  discovery  of  their  retreat.  Now,  I've 
been  thinking  you  might  help  along  matters  immensely, 
if  you  would  go  up  and  join  Bythewood,  and  represent  to 
your  friends  the  folly  of  holding  out  any  longer,  and  show 
them  the  advantage  of  following  your  example." 

DC  slow  felt  strong  misgivings  about  undertaking  this 
delicate  business.  But  persuasions,  flatteries,  and  prom- 
ises prevailed  upon  him  at  last.  And  at  sundown  he  set 
out,  accompanied  by  the  man  who  had  brought  Bythe- 
wood's  letter. 

In  consequence  of  the  messenger's  long  absence,  it  was 
beginning  to  be  feared,  by  those  who  had  sent  him,  that 
he  had  gone  on  a  fruitless  errand.  Evening  came.  There 
was  sadness  on  the  faces  of  Penn  and  Virginia,  as  they  sat 
by  the  corpse  of  Salina.  Pomp  was  gloomy  and  silent. 
Bythewood,  bound  to  Lysander's  rock,  sat  waiting,  with 
feelings  we  will  not  seek  to  penetrate,  for  the  answer  to 
his  letter.  In  that  letter  he  had  mentioned,  among  other 
things,  a  certain  pair  of  horses  that  were  in  his  stable.  Had 
he  known  that  the  colonel,  during  his  hour  of  moroseness, 
had  gone  over  to  look  at  these  horses,  and  that  he  was 
now  driving  them  about  the  village,  well  satisfied  with  the 
munificent  bribe,  he  would,  no  doubt,  have  felt  easier  in 
his  mind. 

"  You  will  not  go  to  your  father  to-night,"  said  Penn, 


THE    TRAITOR.  481 

having  looked  out  into  the  gathering  darkness,  and  re- 
turned to  Virginia's  side.  "We  have  one  night  more 
together.  May  be  it  is  the  last." 

Carl  was  comforting  his  wounded  cousin,  who  had  been 
brought  and  placed  on  some  skins  on  the  floor.  The  patri- 
ots were  holding  a  consultation.  Suddenly  the  sentinel 
at  the  door  announced  an  arrival ;  and  to  the  amazement 
of  all,  the  messenger  entered,  followed  by  Deslow. 

The  traitor  came  in,  smiling  in  most  friendly  fashion 
upon  his  late  companions,  even  offering  his  hand  to 
Pomp,  who  did  not  accept  it.  Then  he  saw  in  the  fares 
that  looked  upon  him  a  stern  and  terrible  triumph.  By 
the  rock  he  beheld  Bythewood  bound.  And  his  hear1- 
sank. 

The  messenger  brought  a  letter  for  Augustus.  Pomp 
took  it. 

"  This  interests  us!"  he  said,  breaking  the  seal.  "  Ex- 
cuse me,  sir  !  "  —  to  Bythewood.  —  "I  was  once  your 
servant ;  and  I  had  forgotten  that  circumstances  have 
slightly  changed  !  As  your  hands  are  confined,  I  will 
read  it  for  you." 

He  read  aloud. 

"  DEAR  Gus  :  This  is  an  awful  bad  scrape  you  have  got 
into  ;  but  I  suppose  I  must  get  you  out  of  it.  Villars 
shall  have  passports,  and  an  escort,  if  ho  likes.  I'll  kr^ep 
the  soldiers  from  the  mountains.  The  hardest  thing  to 
arrange  is  the  Deslow  affair.  I  don't  care  a  curse  for  th9 
41 


482  THE    TRAITOR 

fellow  but  I  don't  want  the  name  of  giving  him  up.  So, 
if  I  succeed  in  sending  him,  keep  mum.  Probably  he 
never  will  come  away  to  tell  a  tale. 

"  Yours,  &c.,  DERBING. 

"P.  S.     Thank  you  for  the  horses." 

Then  Pomp  turned  and  looked  upon  the  traitor,  who 
had  been  himself  betrayed.  His  ghastly  face  was  of  the 
color  of  grayish  yellow  parchment.  His  hat  was  in  his 
hand,  and  his  short,  stiff  hair  stood  erect  with  terror. 
If  up  to  this  moment  there  had  been  any  doubt  of  his 
guilt  in  Pomp's  mind,  it  vanished.  The  wretch  had  not 
the  power  to  proclaim  his  innocence,  or  to  plead  for  mercy. 
No  explanations  were  needed :  he  understood  all  :  with 
that  vivid  perception  of  truth  which  often  comes  Avith  the 
approach  of  death,  he  knew  that  he  was  there  to  die. 

"  Have  you  anything  to  confess  ?"  Pomp  said  to  him, 
with  the  solemnity  of  a  priest  preparing  a  sacrifice.  "  If 
so,  speak,  for  your  time  is  short." 

Deslow  said  nothing :  indeed,  his  organs  of  speech  were 
paralyzed. 

"  Very  well :  then  I  will  tell  you,  we  know  all.  We 
trusted  you.  You  have  betrayed  us.  Withers  is  dead  : 
you  killed  him.  Cudjo  is  dead  :  his  blood  is  upon  your 
soul.  For  this  you  are  now  to  die." 

There  was  another  besides  Deslow  whom  these  calm 
and  terrible  words  appalled.  It  was  By  the  wood,  who 
feared  lest,  after  all  he  had  accomplished,  his  turn  might 
come  next. 


THE    TRAITOR.  483 

It  was  some  time  before  the  fear-stricken  culprit  could 
recover  the  power  of  speech.  Then,  in  a  sudden,  hoarse, 
cr.d  scarcely  articulate  shriek,  his  voice  burst  forth  :  — 

"  Save  me  !  save  me  !  " 

He  rushed  to  where  the  patriots  stood.  But  they 
thrust  him  back  sternly. 

';  This  is  Pomp's  business.     Deal  with  him  !  " 

"  Will  no  one  save  me  ?  Will  no  one  speak  for  my 
life  ? "  These  words  were  ejaculated  with  the  ghastly 
accent  and  volubility  of  terror. 

"  Your  life  is  forfeited.  Pomp  saved  it  once  ;  now  he 
takes  it.  It  is  just,"  said  Stackridge. 

"  My  God  !  my  God  !  my  God  !  "  Thrice  the  doomed 
man  uttered  that  sacred  name  with  wild  despair,  and  with 
intervals  of  strange  and  silent  horror  between.  "  Then 
I  must  die  !  " 

li  /  will  speak  for  you,"  said  a  voice  of  solemn  compas- 
sion. And  Penn  stepped  forward. 

"  You  ?  you  ?  you  will  ?  " 

"  Do  not  hope  too  much.  Pomp  is  inexorable  as  he  is 
just.  But  I  will  plead  for  you." 

"  O,  do  !  do  !  There  is  something  in  his  face  —  I  can- 
not bear  it  —  but  you  can  move  him  !  " 

Pomp  was  leaning  thoughtfully  by  one  of  the  giant's 
stools.  Penn  drew  near  to  him.  Deslow  crouched  be- 
hind, his  whole  frame  shaking  visibly. 

"  Pomp,  if  you  love  me,  grant  me  this  one  favor. 
Leave  this  wretch  to  his  God.  What  satisfaction  cat 


484  THE     TRAITOR. 

there  be  in  taking  the  life  of  so  degraded  and  abject  a 
creature  r " 

"There  is  satisfaction  injustice,"  replied  Pomp,  quietly 
smiling. 

"  O,  but  the  satisfaction  there  is  in  mercy  is  infinitely 
sweeter  !  Forgiveness  is  a  holy  thing,  Pomp  !  It  brings 
the  blessing  of  Heaven  with  it,  and  it  is  more  effective 
than  vengeance.  This  man  has  a  wife  ;  he  has  children  ; 
think  of  them  ! " 

These  words,  and  many  more  to  the  same  purpose, 
Penn  poured  forth  with  all  the  earnestness  of  his  soul. 
He  pleaded :  he  argued  ;  he  left  no  means  untried  to 
melt  that  adamantine  will.  In  vain  all.  When  he  fin- 
ished, Pomp  took  his  hand  in  one  of  his,  and  laying  the 
other  kindly  on  his  shoulder,  said  in  his  deepest,  tenderest 
tones,  — 

"  I  have  heard  you  because  I  love  you.  What  you  say 
is  just.  But  another  thing  is  just  —  that  this  man  should 
die.  Ask  anything  but  this  of  me,  and  you  will  see  how 
gladly  I  will  grant  all  you  desire." 

"I  have  done." — Penn  turned  sadly  away.  —  "It  is 
as  I  feared.  Deslow,  I  will  not  flatter  you.  There  is 
no  hope." 

Then  Deslow,  regaining  somewhat  of  his  manhood, 
drew  himself  up,  and  prepared  to  meet  his  fate. 

"  Soon  ? "  he  asked,  more  firmly  than  he  had  yet 
spoken. 

"  Now,"   said   Pomp.     He  lighted  a  lantern.     "  You 


THE    TRAITOR.  485 

must  go  with  me.  There  are  eyes  here  that  would  not 
look  upon  your  death."  He  took  his  rifle.  "  Go 
before."  And  he  conducted  his  victim  into  the  recesses 
in  the  cave. 

They  came  to  the  well,  into  the  unfathomable  mystery 
of  which  Carl  had  dropped  the  stone.  There  Pomp 
stopped. 

"  This  is  your  grave.  Would  you  take  a  look  at  it  ?  " 
He  held  the  lantern  over  the  fearful  place.  The  falling 
waters  made  in  those  unimaginable  depths  the  noise  of 
far-off  thunders.  Half  dead  with  fear  already,  the  wretch 
looked  down  into  the  hideous  pit. 

"  Must  I  die  ? "  he  uttered  in  a  ghastly  whisper. 

"  You  must !  I  will  shoot  you  first  in  mercy  to  you  ; 
for  I  am  not  cruel.  Have  you  prayers  to  make  ?  I  will 
wait." 

Deslow  sank  upon  his  knees.  He  tried  to  confess  him- 
self to  God,  to  commit  his  soul  with  decency  into  His 
hands.  But  the  words  of  his  petition  stuck  in  his  throat: 
the  dread  of  immediate  death  absorbed  all  feeling  else. 

Pomp,  who  had  retired  a  short  distance,  supposed  he 
had  made  an  end. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?"  he  asked,  placing  his  lantern  on  the 
rock,  and  poising  his  rifle. 

"  I  cannot  pray  !  "  said  Deslow.  "  Send  for  a  minister 
—  for  Mr.  Villars  !  —  I  cannot  die  so." 

"  It  is  too  late,"  answered  Pomp,  sorrowful,  yet  stern. 
"  Mr.  Villars  has  been  carried  away  by  the  soldiers  you 
41* 


486  THE    TRAITOR. 

sent.  If  you  cannot  pray  for  yourself,  then  there  is  none 
to  pray  for  you." 

Scarce  had  he  spoken,  when  out  of  the  darkness  benr""1 
him  came  a  voice,  saying  with  solemn  sweetness,  as  if  an 
angel  responded  from  the  invisible  profound,  — 

"  I  will  pray  for  him  !  " 

He  turned,  and  saw  in  the  lantern's  misty  glimmer  a 
spectral  form  advancing.  It  drew  near.  It  was  a  female 
figure,  shadowy,  noiseless  ;  the  right  hand  raised  with 
piteous  entreaty ;  the  countenance  pale  to  whiteness,  — 
its  fresh  and  youthful  beauty  clothed  with  sadness  and 
compassion  as  with  a  veil. 

It  was  Virginia.  All  the  way  through  the  dismal 
galleries  of  the  cave,  and  down  Cudjo's  stairs,  she  had 
followed  the  executioner  and  his  victim,  in  order  to  plead 
at  the  last  moment  for  that  mercy  for  which  Penn  had 
pleaded  in  vain. 

Struck  with  amazement,  Pomp  gazed  at  her  for  a  mo- 
ment as  if  she  had  been  really  a  spirit. 

"  How  came  you  here  ?  " 

She  laid  one  hand  upon  his  arm  ;  with  the  other  she 
pointed  upwards  ;  her  eyes  all  the  while  shining  upon  him 
with  a  wondrous  brilliancy,  Avhich  was  of  the  spirit  indeed, 
and  not  of  the  flesh. 

"  Heaven  sent  me  to  pray  for  him  —  and  for  you." 

"  For  me,  Miss  Villars  ?  " 

"  For  you,  Pomp  !  "  —  Her  voice  also  had  that  strange 
melting  quality  which  comes  only  from  the  soul.  It 


THE    TRAITOR.  487 

•was  low,  and  full  of  love  and  sorrow.  "  For  if  you 
slay  this  man,  then  you  will  have  more  need  of  prayers 
than  he." 

Pomp  was  shaken.  The  touch  on  his  arm,  the  tones 
of  that  voice,  the  electric  light  of  those  inspired  eyes, 
moved  him  with  a  power  that  penetrated  to  his  inmost 
soul.  Yet  he  retained  his  haughty  firmness,  and  said 
coldly,  — 

"  If  there  had  been  mercy  for  this  man,  Penn  would 
have  obtained  it.  The  hardest  thing  I  ever  did  was  to 
deny  him.  What  is  there  to  be  said  which  he  did 
not  say  ?  " 

"  O,  he  spoke  earnestly  and  well  ! ''  replied  Virginia. 
"  I  wondered  how  you  could  listen  to  him  and  not  yield. 
But  he  is  a  man  ;  and  as  a  man  he  gave  up  all  hope  when 
reason  failed,  and  he  saw  you  so  implacable.  But  I 
would  never  have  given  up.  I  would  have  clung  to  your 
knees,  and  pleaded  with  you  so  long  as  there  was  breath 
in  me  to  ask  or  heart  to  feel.  I  would  not  have  let  you 
go  till  you  had  shouTi  mercy  to  this  poor  man ! "  — 
(Deslow  had  crawled  to  her  feet :  there  he  knelt  grov- 
elling),—  "and  to  yourself,  Pomp!  If  he  dies  repent- 
Ing,  and  you  kill  him  unrelenting,  I  would  rather  be 
he  than  you.  When  we  shut  the  gate  of  mercy  on  others 
we  shut  it  on  ourselves.  For  all  that  you  have  done  for 
my  father  and  friends,  and  for  me,  I  am  filled  with  gratitude 
and  friendship.  Your  manly  traits  have  inspired  me  with 
an  admiration  that  was  almost  hero-worship.  For  thi» 


488  THE    TRAITOR. 

reason  I  would  save  you  from  a  great  crime.  O,  Pomp,  if 
only  for  my  sake,  do  not  annihilate  the  noble  and  grand 
image  of  you  which  has  built  itself  up  in  my  heart,  and 
leave  only  the  memory  of  a  strange  horror  and  dread  in 
its  place ! " 

Pomp  had  turned  his  eyes  away  from  hers,  knowing  that 
if  he  continued  to  be  fascinated  by  them,  he  must  end  by 
yielding.  He  drooped  his  head,  leaning  on  his  rifle,  and 
looking  down  upon  the  wretch  at  their  feet.  A  strong 
convulsion  shook  his  whole  frame,  as  she  ceased  speaking. 
There  was  silence  for  some  seconds.  Then  he  spoke, 
still  without  raising  his  eyes,  in  a  deep,  subdued  voice. 

"  This  man  is  the  hater  of  my  race.  He  is  of  those  who 
rob  us  of  our  labor,  our  lives,  our  wives,  and  children, 
and  happiness.  They  enslave  both  body  and  soul.  They 
damn  us  with  ignorance  and  vice.  To  take  from  us  the 
profits  of  our  toil  is  littlo  ;  but  they  take  from  us  our 
manhood  also.  Yet  here  he  came,  and  accepted  life  and 
safety  at  my  hands.  He  made  an  oath,  and  I  made  an 
oath.  His  oath  was  never  to  betray  my  poor  Cucljo's 
secret.  The  oath  I  made  was  to  kill  him  as  I  would  a 
dog  if  his  should  be  broken.  It  has  been  broken. 
My  poor  Cudjo  is  dead.  Withers  is  dead.  Your  sister 
is  dead.  I  see  it  to  be  just  that  this  traitor  too  should 
now  die  !  " 

Again  he  poised  his  rifle.  But  Virginia  threw  herself 
upon  the  victim,  covering  with  her  own  pure  bosom  his 
miserable,  guilty  breast. 


THE    TRAITOR.  489 

Pomp  smiled.  "  Do  not  fear.  For  your  sake  I  have 
pardoned  him." 

"  O,  this  is  the  noblest  act  of  your  life,  Pomp  ! "  she 
exclaimed,  clasping  his  hand  with  joy  and  gratitude. 

He  looked  in  her  face.  A  great  weight  was  taken  from 
his  soul.  His  countenance  was  bright  and  glad. 

"  Do  you  think  it  was  not  a  bitter  cup  for  me  ?  You 
have  taken  it  from  me,  and  I  thank  you.  But  Bythe- 
wood  must  not  know  I  have  relented.  We  have  yet  a 
work  to  do  with  him." 

Then  those  who  had  been  left  behind  in  the  cave, 
listening  for  the  death-signal,  heard  the  report  of  a  rifle 
ringing  through  the  chambers  of  rock.  Not  long  after 
Pomp  and  Virginia  returned ;  and  Deslow  was  not  with 
them.  Augustus  heard  —  Augustus  saw  —  nor  knew  he 
any  reason  why  the  fate  of  Deslow  should  not  presently 
be  his  own. 

"  Is  justice  done  ? "  said  Stackridge,  with  stern  eyes 
fixed  on  Pomp. 

"  Is  justice  done  ?"  said  Pomp,  turning  to  Virginia. 

"  Justice  is  done  !  "    she   answered,  in  a  serious,  firm 


490  BREAD    ON    THE    WATERS, 


XLVII. 


BREAD    ON   THE    WATERS. 


H  E  next  morning  a  singular  procession  set  out 
from  the  cave.  Stretchers  had  been  framed 
of  the  trunks  and  boughs  of  saplings,  and  upon 
these  the  dead  and  wounded  of  yesterday  were  placed. 
They  were  borne  by  the  prisoners  of  yesterday,  who  had 
been  paroled  for  the  purpose.  Carl  walked  by  the  side 
of  the  litter  that  conveyed  his  cousin  Fritz,  talking  cheer- 
fully to  him  in  then*  native  tongue.  Behind  them  was 
carried  the  dead  body  of  Salina,  followed  by  old  Toby 
with  uncovered  head.  With  him  went  Peppcrill,  charged 
with  the  important  business  of  seeing  that  all  was  done 
for  the  Villars  family  which  had  been  stipulated,  and  of 
reporting  to  Pomp  at  the  cave  afterwards. 

Last  of  all  came  Virginia,  leaning  on  Penn's  arm.  Ke 
was  speaking  to  her  earnestly,  in  low,  quivering  tones : 
she  listened  with  downcast  countenance,  full  of  all  tender 
and  sad  emotions  ;  for  they  were  about  to  part. 

Pepperill  was  intrusted  with  a  second  letter  from  Bythe« 
Wood  to  the  colonel,  couched  in  these  terms  :  — 


KBEAD    ON    THE    WATKRS.  491 

•«  Deslow  was  taken  last  night,  and  slaughtered  in  cold 
Wood.  The  same  will  happen  to  me  if  all  is  not  done  as 
agreed.  I  am  to  be  retained  as  a  hostage  until  PepperilTs 
return.  For  Heaven's  sake,  help  Mr.  Villars  and  his  fam- 
ily off  with  all  convenient  despatch,  and  oblige,'''  &c. 

Virginia  was  going  to  try  her  fortune  with  her  father ; 
but  Penn's  lot  was  cast  with  his  friends  who  remained  at, 
the  cave.  From  these  he  could  not  honorably  separate 
himself  until  all  danger  was  over  ;  and,  much  as  he  longed 
to  accompany  her,  he  knew  well  that,  even  if  he  should 
be  permitted  to  do  so,  his  presence  would  be  productive 
of  little  good  to  either  her  or  her  father.  Moreover,  it 
had  been  wisely  resolved  not  to  demand  too  much  of  the 
military  authorities.  A  safe  conduct  could  be  granted 
with  good  grace  to  a  blind  old  minister  and  his  daughter, 
but  not  to  men  who  had  been  in  arms  against  the  confed- 
erate government.  Nor  was  it  thought  best  to  trust  or 
tempt  too  far  these  minions  of  the  new  slave  despotism, 
whose  recklessness  of  obligations  which  interest  or  re- 
venge prompted  them  to  evade,  was  so  notorious. 

Penn  would  have  attended  Virginia  to  the  base  of  the 
mountain,  risking  all  things  for  the  melancholy  pleasure 
of  prolonging  these  last  moments.  But  this  she  would 
not  permit.  Hard  as  it  was  to  utter  the  word  of  sep- 
aration, —  to  see  him  return  to  those  solitary  and  danger- 
ous rocks,  not  knowing  that  he  would  ever  be  able  to 
leave  them,  or  that  she  would  ever  see  him  again  in  this 
world  ;  —  still,  her  love  was  greater  than  her  selfishness, 
and  she  had  strength  even  for  that. 


492  BREAD    ON   THE    WATERS. 

"  No  farther  now !  O.  you  must  go  no  farther !  " 
And,  resolutely  pausing,  she  called  to  Carl,  —  for  Carl's 
lot  too  lay  with  his.  Toby  and  Pepperill  also  stopped. 

"  Daniel,"  said  Penn,  with  impressive  solemnity,  "  into 
thy  hands  I  commit  this  precious  charge.  Be  faithful. 
Good  Toby,  I  trust  we  shall  meet  again  in  God's  good 
time.  Farewell !  farewell !  " 

And  the  procession  went  its  way  ;  only  Penn  and  Carl 
remained  gazing  after  it  long,  with  hearts  too  full  for 
words. 

When  it  was  out  of  sight,  and  they  were  turning 
silently  to  retrace  their  steps,  they  saw  a  man  come  out 
of  the  woods,  and  beckon  to  them.  It  was  a  negro  —  it 
was  Barber  Jim. 

Permitted  to  approach,  he  told  his  story.  Since  the 
escape  of  the  arrested  Unionists  through  his  cellar,  he 
had  been  an  object  of  suspicion  ;  and  last  night  his  house 
had  been  attacked  by  a  mob.  He  had  managed  to 
escape,  and  was  now  hiding  in  the  woods  to  save  his 
life. 

"  Deslow  betrayed  you  with  the  rest/'  said  Penn ; 
4  that  explains  it." 

"  My  wife  —  my  two  daughters  :  what  will  become  of 
them  ?  "  said  the  wretched  man.  "  And  my  property, 
that  I  have  been  all  this  while  laying  up  for  them  !  " 

"  Do  not  despair,  my  friend.  Your  property  is  mostly 
real  estate,  and  cannot  be  so  easily  appropriated  to  rebel 
uses,  as  the  money  deposited  for  me  in  the  bank,  from 


BIIEAD    ON    THE    WATERS.  493 

which  I  was  never  allowed  to  draw  it !  It  will  wait  for' 
you.  A  kind  Providence  will  care  for  your  family,  I  am 
sure.  As  for  you,  I  do  not  see  what  else  you  can  do  but 
share  our  fortunes.  There  is  one  comfort  for  you,  —  we 
are  all  about  as  badly  off  as  yourself." 

"l^ou  shall  have  your  pick  of  some  muskets,"  said 
Carl,  gayly  ;  "  and  you  vill  find  us  as  jolly  a  set  of  waga- 
bonds  as  ever  you  saw  ! " 

"  Have  you  plenty  of  arms  ?  " 

"  Arms  is  more  plenty  as  prowisions.  Vat  is  vanted  is 
wittles.  Vat  is  vanted  most  is  wegetables.  Bears  and 
vild  turkeys  inwite  themselves  to  be  shot,  but  potatoes 
keep  wery  shy,  and  ve  suffers  for  sour  krout." 

Barber  Jim  mused.  "  I  will  go  with  you.  I  am 
glad,"  he  added,  as  if  to  himself,  "  that  I  paid  Toby  off 
us  I  did." 

What  he  meant  by  this  last  remark  will  be  seen. 

Mr.  Villars  had  taken  the  precaution  to  invest  his 
available  funds  in  Ohio  Railroad  stock  some  time  before. 
Arrived  in  Cincinnati,  he  would  be  able  to  reap  the 
advantages  of  this  timely  forethought.  But  in  the  mean 
time  the  expenses  of  a  long  journey  must  be  defrayed1, 
and  he  found  it  impossible  now  to  raise  money  on  h?s 
house  or  household  goods.  All  the  ready  cash  he  could 
command  was  barely  sufficient  to  afford  a  decent  burial 
to  his  daughter.  He  was  discussing  this  serious  diffi- 
culty with  Virginia,  whilst  preparations  for  Salina's  fu< 
42 


494  BREAD    0-V    THL    WATERS. 

neral  and  their  own  departure  were  going  forward  simul- 
taneously, when  Toby  came  trotting  in,  jubilant  and 
breathless,  and  laid  a  little  dirty  bag  in  his  lap. 

"  I's  fetched  'em  !  dar  ye  got  'em,  massa  !  "  And 
the  old  negro  wiped  the  sweat  from  his  shining  face. 

"  What,  Toby  !  Money !  "  (for  the  little  bag  was  heavy). 
"  Where  did  you  get  it  ?  " 

"  Gold,  sar  !  Gold,  Miss  Jinny !  Needn't  look  'spi- 
cious !  I  neber  got  'em  by  no  underground  means  ! " 
(He  meant  to  say  underhand.}  "  I'll  jes'  'splain  'bout 
dat.  Ye  see,  Massa  Villars,  eber  sence  ye  gib  me  my 
freedom,  ye  been  payin'  me  right  smart  wages,  —  seben 
dollah  a  monf !  Dunno'  how  much  dat  ar  f ur  a  year,  but 
I  reckon  it  ar  a  heap  !  An'  you  rec'lec'  you  says  to  me, 
you  says,  '  Hire  it  out  to  some  honest  man,  Toby,  and 
ye  kin  draw  inference  on  it,'  you  says.  So  what  does  I  do 
but  go  and  pay  it  all  to  Barber  Jim  fast  as  eber  you  pays 
me.  'Pears  like  I  neber  knowed  how  much  I  was  wuf, 
till  tudder  day  he  says  to  me,  '  Toby,'  he  says,  '  times  is 
so  mighty  skeery  I's  afeard  to  keep  yer  money  for  ye  any 
longer  ;  hyar  'tis  fur  ye,  all  in  gold.'  So  he  gibs  it  to  me 
in  dis  yer  little  bag,  an'  I  takes  it,  an'  goes  an'  buries  it 
'hind  de  cow  shed,  whar  'twould  keep  sweet,  ye  know,  fur 
de  family.  An'  hyar  it  ar,  shore  enough,  massa,  jes'  de 
ting  fur  dis  yer  'casion !  " 

"  So  you  got  it  by  underground  means,  after  all !  " 
said  Virginia,  with  mingled  laughter  and  tears,  opening 
the  bag  and  pouring  out  the  bright  eagles. 


BREAD    ON   THE    WATERS.  495 

The  old  clergyman  was  silent  for  a  space,  overcome 
with  emotion. 

"  God  bless  you  for  a  faithful  servant,  Toby  !  and  Bar- 
ber Jim  for  an  honest  man." 

"  Dat's  nuffin  !  "  said  Toby,  snuffing  and  winking  ludi- 
crously. "  Why  shouldn't  a  cullud  pusson  hab  de  right  to 
be  honest,  well  as  white  folks  ?  If  you's  gwine  to  tank 
anybody,  ye  better  jes'  tink  and  tank  yersef !  Who  gib 
ol'  Toby  his  freedom,  an'  den  'pose  to  pay  him  wages  ? 
Reckon  if  't  hadn't  been  fur  dat,  massa,  I  neber  should 
hab  de  bressed  chance  to  do  dis  yer  little  ting  fur  de 
family  !  " 

"  We  will  thank  only  our  heavenly  Father,  whose  ten- 
der care  we  will  never  doubt,  after  this ! "  said  the  old 
minister,  with  deep  and  solemn  joy. 

"  Wust  on't  is,  Jim  hissef's  got  inter  trouble  now," 
said  Toby.  "He  hab  to  put  fur  de  woods;  an'  his 
family  wants  to  git  to  de  norf,  whar  dey  tinks  he'll 
mabby  be  gwine  to  meet  'em;  but  dey  can't  seem  to 
manage  it." 

"  O,  father,  I  have  an  idea !  You  will  have  a  right  to 
take  your  servants  with  you  ;  and  Jim's  wife  and  daugh- 
ters might  pass  as  servants." 

"  I  shall  be  rejoiced  to  help  them  in  any  way.  Go  and 
find  them,  Toby.  Thus  the  bread  we  cast  on  the  water 
•ometimes  returns  to  us  before  many  daya ! " 


496          EMANCIPATION   OF    THE   BOSDMEN. 


XLVIII 


EMANCIPATION  OF  TEE  BONDMEN.  — CON- 
CLUSION. 


WEEK  had  elapsed  since  Augustus  became 
a  captive  ;  when,  one  cloudy  afternoon,  Dan 
Pepperill  returned  alone  to  the  mountain  cave. 
Pomp  met  him  at  the  entrance. 

"All  safe?" 

"  I  be  durued  if  they  ain't ! "  said  Dan,  exultant. 
"  The  ol'  man,  and  the  nigger,  and  the  gal,  and  Jim's 
wife  and  darters  inter  the  bargain !  Went  with  'em 
myself  all  the  way,  by  stage  and  rail,  till  I  seen  'em  ovei 
the  line  inter  ol'  Kentuck'.  Durned  if  I  didn't  wish  I  war 
gwine  for  good  myself." 

"  You  shall  go  now  if  you  will.  I  have  been  waiting 
only  for  you.  Cudjo  is  dead.  All  the  rest  are  gone. 
There  is  nothing  to  keep  me  here.  Will  you  go  back  to 
the  rebels,  or  make  a  push  with  us  for  the  free  states  ? 
Speak  quick  !  " 

Pepperill  only  groaned. 


EMANCIPATION   OF   THE  BONDMEN.          497 

"  Nine  more  have  joined  since  Jim  came.  They 
make  a  strong  party,  all  armed,  and  determined  to  fight 
their  way  through.  They  are  already  twenty  miles  away  ,• 
but  we  will  overtake  them  to-morrow.  I  am  to  guide  them 
I  know  every  cave  and  defile.  Will  you  come  ?  " 

"  Pomp,  ye  know  I'd  be  plaguy  glad  ter  ;  but  'tain't  sc 
ter  be  !  I  hain't  no  gre't  fancy  fur  this  secesh  business, 
that  ar'  a  fact.  But  I'm  in  fur't,  and  I  reckon  I  sh'll  haf ' 
ter  put  it  through  ; ''  and  Dan  heaved  a  deep  sigh  of  regret. 
Without  knowing  it,  he  was  a  fatalist.  Being  too  weak 
or  inert  to  resist  the  hand  of  despotism  laid  upon  him,  he 
yielded  to  its  weight  and  accepted  it  as  destiny.  The 
rebel  ranks  have  been  filled  with  such. 

Pomp  smiled  with  mingled  pity  and  derision.  "  Good 
by,  then  !  I  hope  this  war  will  do  something  for  your 
class  as  well  as  for  mine  —  you  need  it  as  much  !  Wait 
here,  and  you  shall  have  company." 

He  took  a  lantern,  and  entered  the  interior  chambei 
of  the  cave.  After  the  lapse  of  many  minutes  he  re- 
turned, dragging,  as  from  a  dungeon,  into  the  light  of 
day,  a  wretch  who  could  scarcely  have  expected  ever  to 
behold  that  blessed  boon  again,  —  he  was  so  abject,  so 
filled  with  joy  and  trembling.  It  was  Deslow.  Then 
turning  to  the  corner  where  Augustus  sat  confined,  the 
negro  cut  his  bonds  and  lifted  him  to  his  feet.  Poor 
Bythewood,  rheumatic,  stiff  in  the  joints,  and  terribly 
wasted  by  anxiety  and  chagrin,  presented  a  scarcely  less 
piteous  spectacle  than  Deslow  ;  nor  were  his  fallen  spirits 
42* 


498  EMANCIPATION    OF   THE   BONDMEN. 

revived  by  the  sight  of  this  craven,  whom  he  had  sup- 
posed  to  be  long  since  past  the  memory  of  the  wrong  he 
had  done  him,  and  the  earthly  passion  for  revenge. 

"  My  friends,"  said  Pomp,  leading  them  to  the  en- 
trance, and  showing  them  to  each  other  in  the  gray  glim- 
mer of  that  cloudy  afternoon,  "  our  little  accounts  are 
now  closed  for  the  present,  and  my  business  with  you 
ends.  You  are  at  liberty  to  depart.  Deslow,  do  not 
hate  too  bitterly  this  man  for  betraying  you  into  my 
hands.  Remember  that  you  set  the  example  of  treach- 
ery, and  that  the  cause  to  which  you  are  both  sworn  is 
itself  founded  on  treachery.  As  for  you,  Mr.  Bythewood, 
I  trust  that  you  will  pardon  the  inconvenience  I  have 
found  it  necessary  to  subject  you  to.  I  have  restrained 
you  of  your  liberty  for  some  days.  You  restrained  me  of 
mine  for  nearly  as  many  years.  I  have  no  longer  any 
ill  will  towards  either  of  you.  Go  in  peace.  I  emanci- 
pate you.  I  shall  not  hunt  you  with  hounds,  because  I  have 
been  your  master  for  a  little  while.  I  shall  not  put  iron 
collars  on  your  necks.  I  shall  neither  brand  nor  beat  you. 
You  are  free  !  Does  the  word  sound  pleasant  to  your 
ears  ?  Think  then  of  those  to  whom  it  would  sound  just 
as  sweet.  Has  the  rule  of  a.  hard  master  seemed  grievous 
to  you  ?  Remember  those  to  whom  it  is  no  less  grievous. 
If  might  makes  right,  then  you  have  been  as  much  my 
property  as  ever  black  man  was  yours.  Is  there  no  law, 
no  justice,  but  the  power  of  the  strongest?  You  have 
had  a  few  days'  experience  of  that  power,  and  can  judge 


EMANCIPATION    OF   THE   BONDMEX.          499 

what  a  life's  experience  of  it  might  be.  Reflect  upon  it, 
my  friends." 

He  led  them  to  the  opening  of  the  cave.  Then  he 
pointed  to  the  clouds.  "  You  cannot  see  the  sun ;  but 
the  sun  is  there.  You  do  not  see  God,  through  the  trou- 
bled affairs  of  this  world  ;  but  God  is  over  all.  He  gov- 
erns, although  you  have  left  him  quite  out  of  your  plans. 
Your  plans  are,  no  doubt,  very  great  and  mighty,  —  but 
see  !  "  —  passing  over  his  knee  the  cord  with  which 
Bythewood  had  been  bound.  "  This  is  the  chain  with 
which  you  bind  my  brothers  and  sisters.  It  is  strong. 
You  have  drawn  it  very  tight  about  them.  But  you 
thought  to  draw  it  tighter  still,  to  hold  them  fast  forever ; 
and  look,  you  have  broken  it !  " 

So  saying,  he  displayed  with  a  smile  the  two  fragments 
of  the  rope  that  had  snapped  like  a  mere  string  in  his 
hands. 

"So  tyranny  is  made  to  defeat  itself!"  —  trampling 
the  ends  under  hig  feet.  "  I  have  said  it.  Remem- 
ber !  " 

Uttering  these  last  words,  he  walked  backwards  slowly, 
resumed  his  rifle  and  lantern,  and  disappeared  in  the  dark 
recesses  of  the  cave.  The  freed  prisoners  then,  joining 
Pepperill,  took  their  way  slowly  down  the  mountain,  sad- 
der if  not  wiser  men. 

The  reappearance  of  Bythewood  was  a  signal  for  send- 
ing immediately  two  full  companies  to  capture  the  cave. 
They  succeeded  ;  but  they  captured  nothing  else.  Pomp, 


500  EMANCIPATION    OF   THE   BONDMEN. 

escaping  tiirough  the  sink,  was  already  miles  away  on  the 
trail  of  the  refugees. 

Thus  ends  the  story  of  Cudjo's  Cave.  Other  conclu- 
sion, to  give  it  dramatic  completeness,  it  ought,  perhaps, 
to  have  ;  but  the  struggles,  of  which  we  have  here  wit- 
nessed the  beginning,  have  not  yet  ended  [Nov.,  1863]  ; 
and  one  can  scarcely  be  expected  to  describe  events 
before  they  transpire. 

We  may  add,  however,  that  Mr.  Villars,  Virginia,  and 
Toby,  arrived  safely  at  their  destination,  —  a  small  town 
on  the  borders  of  Ohio,  —  where  they  were  cordially  wel- 
comed by  relatives  of  the  family.  There,  three  weeks 
later,  they  "were  visited  by  two  very  suspicious  looking 
characters,  —  one  a  bronzed  and  bearded  young  man, 
robust,  rough,  with  an  eye  like  an  eagle's  gleaming  from 
under  his  old  slouched  hat,  whom  nobody,  I  am  sure, 
would  ever  have  taken  for  a  Quaker  schoolmaster ;  the 
other  a  stout,  ruddy,  blue-eyed,  laughing,  ragged  lad  of 
sixteen,  who  certainly  did  not  pass  for  a  rebel  deserter. 
Strange  to  say,  these  pilgrims  of  the  dusty  roads  and 
rocky  wildernesses  were  welcomed  (not  to  speak  it  pro- 
fanely) like  angels  from  heaven  by  the  old  man,  his 
daughter,  and  Toby,  —  their  brown  hands  shaken,  their 
coarse,  torn  clothes  embraced,  and  their  sunburnt  faces 
kissed,  with  a  rapture  amazing  to  strangers  of  the  house- 
hold. They  were  travelling  (as  the  younger  remarked  in 
an  accent  which  betrayed  his  Teutonic  origin)  to 


EMANCIPATION   OF   THE  BONDMEN.          501 

eylwany,'*  the  home  of  the  elder;  and  they  had  come 
thus  far  out  of  their  way  to  make  this  angels'  visit. 

With  these  two  Barber  Jim  had  journeyed  as  far  as 
Cincinnati,  where  he  found  his  family  comfortably  pro- 
vided for  by  persons  to  whose  benevolence  Mr.  Villars 
had  recommended  them.  The  other  refugees  had  also  got 
safely  over  the  mountains,  after  a  march  full  of  toils  and 
dangers  ;  and  nearly  all  were  now  in  the  federal  camps. 
A  long  history,  full  of  deep  and  painful  interest,  might  be 
written  concerning  the  subsequent  fortunes  of  these  men, 
and  of  their  families  and  neighbors  left  behind,  —  a  his- 
tory of  hardships,  of  forced  separations  and  ruined  homes, 
—  of  starvation  in  woods  and  caves  to  which  loyal  citi- 
zens were  driven  by  the  rage  of  persecution,  —  and  of 
terrible  retribution.  Stackridge,  Grudd,  and  many  of 
their  brother  refugees,  had  the  joy  of  participating  in 
those  military  movements  of  last  summer,  by  which  East 
Tennessee  was  relieved ;  of  beholding  the  tremendous 
ruin  which  the  blind  pride  of  their  foes  had  pulled  down 
upon  itself;  and  of  witnessing  the  jubilee  of  a  patriotic 
people  released  from  a  remorseless  and  unsparing  tyranny. 

A  word  of  Pomp.  Have  you  read  the  newspaper 
stories  of  a  certain  negro  scout,  who,  by  his  intrepidity, 
intelligence,  and  wonderful  celerity  of  movement,  has  ren- 
dered such  important  services  to  the  Army  of  the  Cum- 
berland ?  He  is  the  man. 

Dan  Pepperill  fell  in  the  battle  of  Stone  River,  fight- 
ing in  a  cause  he  never  loved  —  the  type  of  many  such- 


502  EMANCIPATION   OF    THE 

Bythewood,  after  losing  his  influence  at  home,  and  trying 
various  fortunes,  became  attached  to  the  staff  of  the  noto- 
rious Roger  A.  Pryor,  in  whose  disgrace  he  shared,  when 
that  long-haired  rebel  chief  was  reduced  to  the  ranks  for 
cowardice. 

As  for  Carl,  he  is  now  a  stalwart  corporal  in  the  — th 
Pennsylvania  regiment.  He  serves  under  a  dear  friend 
of  his,  known  as  the  "  Fighting  Quaker,"  and  distin- 
guished for  that  rare  combination  of  military  and  moral 
qualities  which  constitutes  the  true  hero. 

I  regret  that  I  cannot  brighten  these  prosaic  last  pages 
with  the  halo  of  a  wedding.  But  Penn  had  said,  "  Our 
country  first !  "  and  Virginia,  heroic  as  he,  had  answered 
bravely,  "  Go  !  "  Whether  they  will  ever  be  happily 
united  on  earth,  who  can  say  ?  But  this  we  know  :  the 
golden  halo  of  the  love  that  maketh  one  has  crowned 
their  united  souls,  and,  with  perfect  patience  and  perfect 
trust,  they  wait. 


i  ' ENVOY.  508 


L' ENVOY. 


HE  foregoing  pages  are,  as  the  writer  sin- 
•J  cerely  believes,  true  to  history  and  life  in 
'  all  important  particulars.  In  order  to  give 
form  and  unity  to  the  narrative,  characters  and  inci- 
dents have  been  brought  together  within  a  much  nar- 
rower compass,  both  of  time  and  space,  than  they  actually 
occupied  :  events  have  been  described  as  occurring  in  the 
summer  of  1861,  many  of  which  did  not  take  place  till 
some  months  later  ;  and  certain  other  liberties  have  been 
taken  with  facts.  Two  separate  and  distinct  caves  have 
been  connected,  in  the  story,  by  expanding  both  into  one, 
which  is  for  the  most  part  imaginary,  but  which,  I  trust, 
will  not  be  considered  as  a  too  improbable  fiction  in  a 
region  where  caves  and  "  sinks  "  abound. 

Lastly,  is  an  apology  needed  for  the  scenes  of  violence 
here  depicted  ?  —  Neither  do  I,  O  gentle  reader,  delight 
in  them.  But  the  book  that  would  be  a  mirror  of  evil 
times,  must  show  some  repulsive  features.  And  this  book 


504  L 'ENVOY 

was    written,   not    to   please   merely,   but   for    a    sterner 
purpose. 

For  peaceful  days,  a  peaceful  and  sunny  literature : 
and  may  Heaven  hasten  the  time  when  there  shall  be  no 
more  strife,  and  no  more  human  bondage  ;  when  under 
the  folds  of  the  starry  flag,  from  the  lake  chain  to  the 
gulf,  and  from  sea  to  sea,  freedom,  and  peace,  and  right- 
eousness shall  reign  ;  when  all  men  shall  love  each  other, 
and  the  nations  shall  know  P<od  ! 


THE  TOBY  TRAFFORD  SERIES 


By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE 


Tlvree  Volumes.    .     .     Cloth.    .     .    Illustrated 
Price  per  volume $1.25 


The  Fortunes  of  Toby  Trafford. 

"A  new  story  by  J.  T.  Trowbridge,  is,  like  all  Mr.  Trowbridge's  fiction,  the 
good  wine  that  needs  no  bush.  The  plot  is  full  of  interest,  and  is  still  so 
natural  that  it  all  might  happen  in  a  thousand  places.  Its  scenes  and  its 
people  are  everywhere ;  only  few  writers  have  Trowbridge's  eyes  to  see 
them.  The  hero  is  not  an  impossibly  good  boy,  but  he  has  manly  instincts  ; 
and  he  is  kept  from  follies  and  mistakes  by  the  counsels  of  an  excellent 
mother,  and  of  his  wise  and  noble-hearted  schoolmaster.  Boys  will  follow 
his  career  and  his  good  and  bad  fortune  with  genuine  interest."— .Boston 
Budget. 

Father  Brighthopes  ;  AN  OLD  CLERGYMAN'S  VACATION. 

"  To  the  many  friends  which  this  book  will  doubtless  gain  it  may  be  well 
to  say  that  Father  Brighthopes  of  the  story  gains  that  cheery  name  by  his 
readiness  to  always  see  the  bright  and  not  the  dark  side  of  any  difficulty, 
great  or  small.  The  few  weeks  which  he  spent  with  his  friends,  the  Koy- 
dons,  wrought  a  change  in  their  daily  life  as  marked  as  it  was  pleasant.  The 
writings  of  Trowbridge  are  too  well  known  to  require  comment,  since  almost 
everyone  is  familiar  with  his  straightforward,  simple  style,  underlying 
which  there  is  not  a  little  humor  as  well  as  pathos." — Chicago  Times. 

Woodie  Thorpe's  Pilgrimage,  AND  OTHER  STORIES. 

"  The  scenes  are  full  of  human  interest  and  lifelikeness,  and  will  please 
many  an  old  reader,  as  well  as  the  younger  folks,  for  whose  delectation  it  is 
intended.  As  in  all  the  books  of  this  author  the  spirit  is  manly,  sincere, 
and  in  the  best  sense  moral.  There  is  no  "  goody  "  talk  and  no  cant,  but 
principles  of  truthfulness,  integrity,  and  self-reliance  are  quietly  inculcated 
by  example.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  any  boy  will  be  the  better  for  reading 
books  like  this."— St.  Botolph. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publishers.       Our  Illustrated  Catalogue  sent  free. 


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The  Tide=MHl  Stories 

By  J.  T.  TROWBRlDCiE 


Six  Volumes.     Cloth.    Illustrated.    Price  per  volume,  $1.25 


Phil  and  Mis  Friends. 

The  hero  is  the  son  of  a  man  who  from  drink  got  into  debt,  and,  after  hav- 
ing given  a  paper  to  a  creditor  authorizing  him  to  keep  the  sou  as  a  se- 
curity for  his  claim,  ran  away,  leaving  poor  Phil  a  bond  slave.  The  story 
involves  a  great  many  unexpected  incidents,  some  of  which  are  painful  and 
some  couiic.  Phil  manfully  works  for  a  year  cancelling  his  father's  debt, 
and  then  escapes.  The  characters  are  strongly  drawn,  and  the  story  is  ab- 
sorbingly interesting. 

The  Tinkham  Brothers'  Tide-Mill. 

"  :  The  Tinkham  Brothers  '  were  the  devoted  sous  of  an  invalid  mother.  The 
story  tells  bow  they  purchased  a  tide-mill,  which  afterwards,  by  the  ill-will 
and  obstinacy  of  neighbors,  became  a  source  of  much  trouble  to  them.  It 
tells  also  how,  by  discretion  and  the  exercise  of  a  peaceable  spirit,  they  at 
last  overcame  all  difficulties."  —  Christian  Observer,  Louisville,  Ky. 

The  .Satin-wood  Box. 

"  Mr.  Trowbridge  has  always  a  purpose  in  his  writings,  and  this  time  he 
has  undertaken  to  show  how  very  near  an  innocent  boy  can  come  to  the 
guilty  edge  and  yet  be  able  by  fortunate  circumstances  to  rid  himself  of  all 
suspicion  of  evil.  There  is  something  winsome  about  the  hero  ;  but  he  has 
a  singular  way  of  falling  into  bad  luck,  although  the  careful  render  will 
never  feel  the  least  disposed  to  doubt  his  honesty."  —  Syracuse  Standard. 

The  Little  Master. 

This  is  the  story  of  a  schoolmaster,  his  trials,  disappointments,  and  final 
'  !  experience  in  teaching  pupils,  and 


in  managing  their  opinionated  and  self-willed  parents.    The  story  has  the 
Mcfcisal          -       J" JJ 


victory.  It  will  recall  to  many  a  man  nis 
in  managing  their  opinionated  and  self- 
charm  which  is  always  found  in  Mr.  Trowbridge'S  works. 

"  Many  a  teacher  could  profit  by  reading  of  this  plucky  little  school- 
master."— Journal  of  Education. 

His  One  Fault. 

"  As  for  the  hero  of  this  story  '  His  One  Fault '  was  absent-mindedness. 
He  forgot  to  lock  his  uncle's  stable  door,  and  the  horse  was  stolen.  In 
seeking  to  recover  the  stolen  horse,  he  unintentionally  stole  another.  In 
trying  to  restore  the  wrong  horse  to  his  rightful  owner,  he  was  himself  ar- 
rested. After  no  end  of  comic  and  dolorous  adventures,  he  surmounted  all 
his  misfortunes  by  downright  pluck  and  genuine  good  feeling.  It  is  a  noble 
contribution  to  juvenile  literature."  —  woman's  Journal. 

Peter  Budstone. 

"  Mr.  J.  T.  Trowbridge'S  '  Peter  Budstone '  is  another  of  those  altogether 
good  and  wholesome  books  for  boys  of  which  it  is  hardly  possible  to  speak  too 
highly.  This  author  shows  us  convincingly  how  juvenile  reading  may  be 
made  vivacious  and  interesting,  and  yet  teach  sound  and  clean  lessons. 
'Peter  Budstone '  shows  forcibly  the  folly  and  crime  of  '  hazing.'  It  is  the 
story  of  a  noble  young  fellow  whose  reason  is  irreparably  overthrown  by 
the  savage  treatment  he  received  from  some  of  his  associates  at  college. 
It  is  a  powerful  little  book,  and  we  wish  every  schoolboy  and  college  youth 
could  read  it." — Philadelphia  American. 


Illustrated  Catalogue  sent  free  on  application. 


UEE    &    SHEPARD,    Publishers,    Boston 


The  Silver  Medal  Stories 

By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE 


Six  Volumes.     Cloth.    Illustrated.    Price  per  volume,  $1.25 
The  Silver  Medal,  AND  OTHER  STORIES. 

There  were  some  schoolboys  who  had  turned  housebreakers,  and  among 
their  plunder  was  a  silver  medal  that  had  been  given  to  one  John  Harrison 
by  the  Humane  Society  for  rescuing  from  drowning  a  certain  Bentou 
Barry.  Isow  Benton  Barry  was  one  of  the  wretched  housebreakers.  This  is 
the  summary  of  the  opening  chapter.  The  story  is  intensely  interesting  in 
its  serious  as  well  as  its  humorous  parts. 

His  Own  Master. 

"  This  is  a  book  after  the  typical  boy's  own  heart.  Its  hero  is  a  plucky 
young  tellow,  who,  seeing  no  chance  for  himself  at  home,  determines  to 
make  his  own  way  in  the  world.  ...  He  sets  out  accordingly,  trudges  to  the 
far  West,  and  finds  the  road  to  fortune  an  unpleasantly  rough  one."— Phil- 
adelphia Inquirer. 

Bound  in  Honor. 

This  story  is  of  a  lad,  who,  though  not  guilty  of  any  bad  action,  has  been 
an  eye-witness  of  the  conduct  of  his  comrades,  and  felt  "  Bound  in  Honor  " 
not  to  tell. 

"  A  capital  book  in  all  respects,  overflowing  with  all  sorts  of  fun  and 
adventure ;  just  the  sort  of  book,  in  short,  that  the  young  folks  will  be 
anxious  to  read  and  :-e-read  with  as  much  continuous  interest  as  the  most 
favored  of  their  story oooks."— Philadelphia  Leader. 

The  Pocket  Rifle. 

"A  boy's  story  which  will  be  read  with  avidity,  as  it  ought  to  be,  it  is  so 
brightly  and  frankly  written,  and  with  such  evident  knowledge  of  the  tem- 
peraments and  habits,  the  friendships  and  enmities  of  schoolboys."  —  New 
York  Mail. 

"  This  is  a  capital  story  for  boys.  It  teaches  honesty,  integrity,  and  friend- 
ship, and  how  best  they  can  be  promoted.  It  shows  the  danger  of  hasty 
judgment  and  circumstantial  evidence  ;  that  right-doing  pays,  and  dishon- 
esty never." — Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

The  Jolly  Rover. 

"  This  book  will  help  to  neutralize  the  ill  effects  of  any  poison  which  chil- 
dren may  have  swallowed  in  the  way  of  sham-adventurous  stories  and  wildly 
fictitious  tales.  '  The  Jolly  Rover  '  runs  away  from  home,  and  meets  life  as 
it  is,  till  he  is  glad  enough  to  seek  again  his  father's  house.  Mr.  Trowbridge 
has  the  power  of  making  an  instructive  story  absorbing  in  its  interest,  and 
of  covering  a  moral  so  that  it  is  easy  to  take."— Christian  Intelligencer. 

Young  Joe,  AND  OTHER  BOYS. 

"  Young  Joe,"  who  lived  at  Bass  Cove,  where  he  shot  wild  ducks,  took 
some  to  town  for  sale,  and  attracted  the  attention  of  a  portly  gentleman 
fond  of  shooting.  This  gentleman  went  duck  shooting  with  Joe,  and  their 
adventures  were  more  amusing  to  the  boy  than  to  the  amateur  sportsman. 

There  are  thirteen  other  short  stories  in  the  book  which  will  be  sure  to 
please  the  young  folks. 

Complete  Illustrated  Catalogue  sent  free  on  application. 


LEE    &    SHEPARD,   Publishers,   Boston 


THE  START  IN  LIFE  SERIES 

By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDQE 
Cloth    Illustrated    Price  per  volume,  $1.00 


A  Start  in  Life :    A  STORY  OF  THE 

GENESEE  COUNTRY, 

In  this  story  the  author  recounts  the  hard- 
ships of  a  young  lad  in  his  first  endeavor  to 
start  out  for  himself.  It  is  a  tale  that  is  full 
of  enthusiasm  and  budding  hopes.  The 
hero  is  a  striking  example  of  the  honest  boy, 
who  is  not  too  lazy  to  work,  nor  too  dull  to 
thoroughly  appreciate  a  joke. 

Biding  His  Time. 

"It  is  full  of  spirit  and  adventure,  and 
presents  a  plucky  hero  who  was  willing  to 
•  bide  his  time,'  no  matter  how  great  the  ex- 
pectations that  he  indulged  in  from  his 
uncle's  vast  wealth,  which  he  did  not  in 
the  louii  cj%ret." — Boston  Home  Journal. 

The  Kelp    Gatherers  *    A  STORY  OF  THE  MAINE  COAST. 

This  book  is  full  of  interesting  information  upon  the  plant  life  of  the 
sea-shore,  and  the  life  of  marine  animals;  but  it  is  also  a  bright  and  read- 
able story,  with  all  the  hints  of  character  and  the  vicissitudes  of  human 
life,  in  depicting  which  the  author  is  an  acknowledged  master. 

The  Scarlet  Tanager,  AND  OTHER  BIPEDS. 

Every  new  story  which  Mr.  TROWBRIDGE  begins  is  followed  through 
successive  chapters  by  thousands  who  have  read  and  re-read  many  times 
his  preceding  tales.  One  of  his  greatest  charms  is  his  absolute  truthful- 
ness. He  does  not  depict  little  saints,  or  incorrigible  rascals,  but  just 
toys.  The  same  fidelity  to  nature  is  seen  in  his  latest  book,  "  The  Scarlet 
Tanager,  and  Other  Bipeds." 

The  Lottery  Ticket. 

"This  is  one  of  the  many  popular  stories  written  by  this  well-known 
author,  whose  name  on  the  title  page  of  a  book  makes  it  a  welcome  arri- 
val to  most  of  the  young  people  who  read.  The  moral  is  always  good, 
the  influence  in  the  right  direction,  and  the  characters  so  portrayed  that 
the  right  is  always  rewarded  and  the  wrong  fails  to  prosper." —  Dubuquc, 
Iowa,  Herald.  

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price  by 

LEE    AND    SHEPARD,   Publishers, 

BOSTON. 


PHILLIPS  EXETER  SERIES 

By  A.  T.  DUDLEY 
Illustrated  by  Charles  Cope/and.     Cloth.     Price  per  vol.,  $1.25 


FIRST  VOLUME 
FOLLOWING  THE  BALL 

Here  is  an  up-to-date  story  presenting 
American  boarding-school  life  and  modern 
athletics.  The  scene  will  readily  be  recog- 
nized as  at  Exeter.  Of  course  football  is 
an  important  feature,  and  in  tracing  the 
development  of  thehero  from  a  green  player 
to  an  expert  it  might  serve  as  a  guide. 
Other  branches  of  athletics  are  also  finely 
dealt  with.  But  it  is  far  more  than  a  foot- 
ball book.  It  is  a  story  of  character  forma- 
tion told  in  a  most  wholesome  and  manly 
way.  In  this  development  athletics  play 
an  important  part,  to  be  sure,  but  are  only 
one  feature  in  carrying  the  hero,  "Dick 
Melvin,"  on  to  a  worthy  manhood. 
"  A  seasonable  school  and  football  story,  by  a  writer  who  knows  the  game 

and  knows  boys  as  well.    It  is  of  the  '  Tom  Brown'  type,  an  uplifting  as  well 

as  a  lively  story."—  Advance,  Chicago,  111. 

SECOND  VOLUME 
MAKING  THE  NINE 

The  cordial  reception  of  the  great  foot- 
ball story,  "  Following  the  Ball,"  which  had 
the  distinction  of  so  fine  a  spirit  in  its  de- 
velopment of  the  hero's  school  life  that  not 
only  the  boys  but  their  elders  were  enthusi- 
astic over  it,  has  led  to  this  second  book,  in 
which  baseball  is  sufficiently  prominent  to 
suggest  the  title.  It  is  a  pleasure  for  a  pub- 
lisher to  present  such  a  book  as  this,  in. 
every  way  worthy  to  continue  the  success 
of  the  previous  volume.  The  special  points 
of  excellence  are  that  the  story  is  lively  and 
worth  telling,  and  the  life  presented  is  that 
of  a  real  school,  interesting,  diversified,  and 
full  of  striking  incidents,  while  the  char- 
acters are  true  and  consistent  types  of  American  boyhood  and 
youth.  The  athletics  are  technically  correct,  abounding  in 
helpful  suggestions,  soundly  and  wisely  given,  and  the  moral 
tone  is  high  and  set  by  action  rather  than  preaching. 

LEE    &    SHEPARD,    Publishers,    Boston 


TOM  WINSTONE,"WIDE  AWAKE" 

By  MARTHA  JAMES 

Author  of  "  My  Friend  Jim  "  and  "  Jack  Tenfleld's  Star  " 


Urge  12mo.       Clotb.      Illustrated  by  W.  Herbert  Dunton.       Price  $1.00 


' '  Another  book  equally  worthy  of  a 
place  in  our  Sunday-school  libraries 
is  TOM  WINSTONE,  '  WIDE  AWAKE,'  by 
Martha  James.  It  iss  a  thorovigh-going 
boy'sbookof  the  right  sort,— full  of  life, 
bubbling  over  with  high  spirits  and 
noble  ambition  ;  a  most  intelligent 
interpretation  of  boy  life  and  charac- 
ter. The  young  hero  of  this  narrative, 
equally  efficient  in  athletics  at  school 
and  in  the  harder  school  of  manly 
sacrifice,  is  a  character  well  worth 
knowing."  — Pilgrim  Teacher,  Boston. 
"The  young  hero  of  the  story,  equally  efficient  in  athletic 
sports  and  in  noble  deeds,  is  well  worth  the  acquaintance  of  every 
healthy  boy  reader."  —  Boston  Transcript 

"  Any  healthy  boy  will  delight  in  this  book." — Lilting  Cliwch, 
Milwaukee,  Wis. 

"Another  excellent  story  for  boys  is  TOM  WINSTONE,  '  WIDE 
AWAKE,'  by  Martha  James.  Here  is  a  recital  of  adventure, 
with  much  account  of  boyish  sport,  in  a  pure  tone  and  with 
Christian  teaching. "—  Fall  River  News. 

"  This  is  a  real  '  boy's  story,'  full  of  incidents  and  interesting 
characters  drawn  to  the  life,  while  the  tone  is  wholesome  and 
genuine." —  Portland  Press. 

"  The  author  has  done  a  good  work  for  the  lads  of  the  gener- 
ation, and  her  effort  will  doubtless  meet  with  the  popularity  it 
deserves." —  Indianapolis  Sentinel. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  publishers. 


LEE    &    SHEPARD,    Publishers,    Boston 


University  of  California  Library 
Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


MAY  21 
DUE2V»iw>rno*iui|itntuEIVED 

REC'D  LD-URL 

AUGZ31936 

4  WK  NOV  03l< 
RICH  IT 

SOCT19 


